Distorted Fear: by Athena13 & Pugmom
by Athena13
Summary: ScrubsAnNoah: Distorted fear is a condition which allows the patient to be gripped by panic in situations normally found to be nonthreatening by the general population.
1. Chapter 1

**Distorted Fear**

By: Athena13 & Pugmom

_A/N: This takes place beginning October 2006._

**Chapter One**

_The following is an excerpt from The New England Journal of Medicine: "Brain Microstructure in Neurodegeneration and Neuroprotection" by Dr. Renee Laurent, St. Vincent's Hospital, Geneva, Switzerland_

"Distorted fear is a condition which allows the patient to be gripped by panic in situations normally found to be non-threatening by the general population. It can be manifested anywhere from the ability to take action and take charge in a situation, to allowing oneself to fall in love. While there are known cases where drug protocols have caused the infliction, most often distorted fear is brought on by childhood traumas. Life experiences where a child's needs were threatened by betrayal, rejection or abandonment can bring about the onset. The current course of treatment involves intense psychotherapy, however, recent strides made with drug protocol X65746 are extremely promising…"

* * *

She couldn't put her finger on it, this feeling she had. The fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach. The need to break out in a spontaneous smile. The glowing warmth from head to toe. Was it happiness? Joy? Contentment – that was it. Robin stretched naked in her bed, pulling the sheets around her tightly. She could hear Patrick in her shower singing "Born to Run" and giggled. She was actually giddy. Robin Scorpio, giddy as a schoolgirl. What do you know? There actually is a use for that phrase. She rolled over onto her stomach and laid her hand on Patrick's side of the bed. The sheets were still warm where he had been just moments earlier.

'_Finally,'_ she thought. It had taken months for them to get there. Months of pushing and pulling, misunderstandings and miscommunications, when all either of them really wanted was each other. Now, finally, a naked Patrick Drake was in her shower. The thought made her giggle again. Yep, giddy was a good word to describe her. The water turned off suddenly and seconds later Patrick appeared in her doorway wearing nothing but a towel. A very small towel. Robin silently congratulated herself for not doing laundry that weekend, and she made a mental note to hide all of her bath sheets whenever Patrick spent the night.

"I smell like a field of gardenias."

"That's lavender, Patrick. And vanilla. It's supposed to relieve tension."

Patrick grinned. "Well, I can think of a better way to do that."

Robin sat up smiling, clutching the top of the sheet to her chest with her right hand, and leaned in to smell him. "Mmmm…" she breathed him in. "You sure do smell pretty, Dr. Drake." She let go of the sheet and pulled the back of his head to her for a slow, lingering kiss, then quickly pulled the towel off like she was removing a band-aid and threw it over his head. She laughed into their kiss.

"Well, now you've done it, Scorpio." Wrapping his arm around her tiny waist he flipped her on her back. "Now, what are you going to do?" Patrick's brown eyes twinkled with ideas and that darn dimple deepened. God, she loved that dimple. It made her want to do things…

"What am I going to do? This." She wrapped one tanned leg around his waist and flipped him over, rolling herself on top of him. She was freakishly strong for her size.

Patrick laughed. He couldn't believe his luck. "Well, aren't you the forceful one?"

"You have no idea." Placing her hands on either side of his head, she leaned down slowly. Patrick licked his lips in anticipation when suddenly the high pitched squeal of a beeper broke the mood. Robin stopped mid-lean.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Patrick fumed. He grabbed the two beepers from the nightstand and stared at them in frustration. "Dammit, it's me. I've got to go." Robin rolled off of him and lay down next to him so they were side by side on their backs. Patrick angled his head so it was touching the top of hers. "So, what are you doing tonight?"

"That depends."

He gave her a slow smile. "I think you may be ready for level two in emotional intimacy."

"Level two? We're only on level two?"

Patrick rolled off the bed and quickly started to dress. "Well, you failed level one. The racecars? I had to go buy three new track segments after your temper tantrum."

"What? _I_ failed? Oh, I think you are sadly mistaken. You – "

"Let's not argue about level one. Now, level two. Are you ready?"

She smiled despite herself. "I know I'll regret asking this, but what exactly is level two?"

"I cook you dinner. We'll have to do it here since I don't have a kitchen, but I think I can make do with what you've got."

"I'm getting Top Ramen for dinner, aren't I?"

"Please. That's for amateurs. I'm making you my special macaroni and cheese."

"Oh, well, in that case how can I resist? Will you be serving the regular elbow macaroni or can I get my hopes up for the Sponge Bob pasta?"

"You mock, but I'm making it from scratch. My mom taught me." He finished buttoning his shirt and sat on the side of the bed to put his shoes on. "It was my dad's favorite meal, so Mom and I made it all the time. Some of my favorite memories are of grating cheese while telling my mom about my day."

"That's actually very sweet. The closest my mom and I ever got to making dinner for my father was when we dialed for take-out."

He crossed to the dresser and grabbed his watch, fastening it to his wrist. "So we're on for tonight?"

"Yeah, we're on. Oh wait!" Robin leaned over to her nightstand and rustled through the drawer. She pulled a small shiny object out. "I may be late tonight – my last appointment is a consult with your father. Why don't you take this and let yourself in?" She held a silver key out to him.

Patrick stared at it. He knew that he must look like a deer caught in the headlights, but he couldn't move.

Robin let a small laugh escape. "Patrick, it's not that big a deal. Just let yourself in so you can get to work in the kitchen." She couldn't help but laugh – the poor boy looked positively terrified. "C'mon. It's my dream come true. You. Barefoot and in the kitchen." She finally catches his eye, and sees a determined look come over him.

"Are you trying to scare me, Scorpio? Because it won't work. I passed level one."

"Oh, you hardly passed level one, Patrick. You shut me out and –"

Patrick grabbed her hand and the key in it and shot her his patented Doc Hottie smile. His voice dropped an octave. "I will be here. Waiting." With that he took his free hand and cupped Robin's face to kiss her. They slowly pulled apart, eyes focused on each other.

"Bye," she whispered, smiling at his retreating frame.

"I'll see you later."

Once she heard the click of her front door, Robin let out a big sigh and fell back in bed. Yep. Giddy.

* * *

_ Ding _

There was nothing like the fourth floor nurses station on a Monday afternoon. It was gossip central, and Patrick wanted no part of it today. It was only 1:15 and he'd already completed one surgery. The rest of his day was shaping up to be a bear. He raced out of the elevator, ducked his head, and walked around the periphery, catching snippets of conversation.

"Has anybody talked to her?"

"…not like her to be so late…"

"I thought Dr. Scorpio lived here…"

"Anybody have Robin's cell number? Her one o'clock is here."

Patrick smiled as he reached into his lab coat pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He flipped it open, dialing the number that was fast becoming more familiar than his own, and listened to her answering machine message. "Hey, Scorpio did you go back to bed after I left? Listen, everyone is looking for you over here so if you haven't left yet get your sweet ass out of bed and over to the hospital. If you hurry I might be able to squeeze in a consult in the 6th floor supply closet to hold you over until tonight."

* * *

By early evening Patrick had finally found his way back to the locker room. The Bennett surgery had gone well, a fact he had been sure of, but after the last two spectacular losses he'd suffered his surgical team had held its breath. It looked like Dr. Drake was back to form.

The door opened and Noah walked in. Patrick looked up and smiled at him. This thing with Robin was seriously having an effect on him if he could feel magnanimous enough to give his dad a smile at the end of a 14 hour shift.

"Hey, Dad. Do me a favor and don't keep Robin all night with all of your talk about Port Charles back in the good old days. She has plans tonight."

"That's actually why I've been looking for you. It's Robin. She never showed up for work today."

* * *

Patrick didn't understand why everyone was so freaked out. What was it about Port Charles that caused its citizens to panic at the slightest variance from the norm? The fact that Robin skipped one day of work was not a sign of the coming apocalypse but you couldn't tell that from the reaction Patrick got from her family and friends. He thought back to that morning. She was fine when he left her. No sign that she was feeling sick or rundown. Well, maybe he had run her down a little bit the night before. And that morning. Twice. But she was fine, healthy, when he left. He tried to call her but got her answering machine and decided that he would just head over there to see for himself what was going on.

His first mistake was asking Maxie if she had spoken to her cousin that day. "Why?" She jumped and swiveled away from the cart of meds she was standing in front of. When he explained that Robin had missed all of her appointments that day, her eyes got wide. "Have you called my dad yet?"

"No. Why would I call the police commissioner-"

"She's a Scorpio. Her parents were both WSB agents. Do you know how many times she's been kidnapped?" Maxie ticked off each point on a finger.

Trying to dodge Maxie and her proclamations of doom and gloom, he nearly sprinted to the fourth floor nurse's station where he could see Liz making notes in a chart. Patrick thought Liz would have been a voice of reason, but instead she threw out words like kidnapped again, expert marksman, and espionage. _'What is wrong with these people,'_ he wondered. _'Robin is a medical researcher, not James Bond.'_ Sure, she had taken off without a second thought to rescue her father in the South Pacific and inexplicably she had wielded a machete down there like a native in the Amazon, but that was a far cry from the girl Liz was describing, wasn't it?

He checked his cell phone again on the way out of the building. No new messages. "Damn it!" He cursed Robin's friends for planting ideas in his head. There were plenty of reasons that would explain why Robin had missed work today. Maybe her father and his partner in crime, Luke Spencer, had gotten themselves into trouble again. Or maybe her friend Brenda had called with another crisis. He and Robin hadn't been dating that long, but he was very familiar with her best friend – she called a lot for a woman on the other side of the ocean. Hell, she could have just been worn out by their night together. He was Patrick Drake after all. It wouldn't be the first time a woman couldn't drag herself out of bed, although usually he was in the bed with them at the time. By the time he had parked and locked his car, Patrick had convinced himself he would find her deep in conversation with Brenda, gushing about his sexual prowess.

The feeling of dread actually overtook him even before he saw her front door sitting ajar. He hesitated a moment before pushing the door in gently, slowly looked around the living room, and then stepped inside. Maybe he should call the police first? Wasn't this always the way the stupid teen died in horror flicks?

Suddenly an arm wrapped around his neck and flung him to the ground, his assailant planting her foot on his Adam's apple when he was prostrate below her.

"Who are you?"

Patrick noted her crisp English accent. She was beautiful. He briefly wondered if he could flirt his way out of this situation.

"I said who are you?" Her heel dug into his throat a little deeper.

No, probably not. "Dr. Drake. Dr. Patrick Drake. Who are you?" He was annoyed that his voice cracked on the last word. Shit. He really was not prepared for Robin's world, was he?

"Patrick…" the woman looked perplexed for a second and then a look of recognition passed over her features. "Oh God." She quickly removed her foot and helped him up, dusting him off. "So you're Robin's Patrick. Lovely to meet you."

"You are?" Patrick rubbed his throat.

"Oh. Of course, I'm sorry. I'm Anna. Devane. Robin's mother." She held out her hand and smiled. "So, where's my daughter?"

"That seems to be the million dollar question tonight. She didn't show up for work today, so I headed over here to check on her. To be honest, I half expected to find her on the phone with you or Brenda. Or maybe on the internet tracking down her father on his latest bumbling adventure."

"Robert? What did that bastard do now? Did he take off again?"

"No, not that I'm aware of. You know, let me try her cell phone again. That thing is practically attached to her ear. I'm sure wherever she is she's got it with her." Patrick walked over to the phone on the credenza in the hallway and dialed. After a couple of seconds, a low hum started to pulsate. "What the heck is that?" Patrick asked.

Anna's head swiveled, searching. Her eyes settled on Robin's couch, where a cell phone did a little vibration dance, red light flashing. "We've found her cell."

Patrick stared at her and slowly lowered the phone onto its cradle.

"Patrick, just where the hell is my daughter?"

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

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* * *

**

_I gave Patrick the key to my apartment today. I could lie and say it was purely for convenience's sake – that because he offered to cook me dinner and I was going to be working later than him it made sense, but how could I lie in my own journal? Truth was that I'd had the key made for him over a week ago, I was just afraid that if I brought it up he'd run a mile in the other direction. He almost did, I saw it in his eyes, but he rallied at the last second when I made light of it. He'll probably leave the key on the desk later tonight. If he does, it'll sting but I'm the one who created this pretense I'm living._

_

* * *

_

Patrick rubbed his hands over his face and leaned back against the pillows that Robin liked to have piled onto her couch. The image of her leaning against these same pillows wearing the killer black dress and those boots the first time he was here shimmered at the edge of his consciousness. Anna's strident demand that he start at the beginning again snapped him back to the present.

"I told you everything already. We worked. We came here last night. We had dinner; you've already retrieved the pizza carton from the garbage. We went to bed. We woke up. I showered. We made plans for tonight. I left for work. When I came out of the emergency surgery I was called in early for I overheard that she was late and I left her the message." Patrick paused and cleared his throat. Something about Anna Devane made him feel uncomfortable in his skin. Every time the message he'd left on Robin's answering machine came up during the countless retelling of the events of the past couple of days she nailed him with a glare that made him slightly ashamed. Even though he knew he did nothing wrong, this was Robin's mother who listened to it and had since played it for Robin's uncle and his own father. He pressed on.

"I left her a message and I was in surgery the rest of the day and I didn't know she hadn't come in until my father told me. Then I came here and you know the rest." He slumped back into the couch. He felt as frustrated and helpless as everyone else in the room looked. He didn't know what the hell they expected from him. He hadn't been here dammit!

"What was her mood when you left this morning," Mac Scorpio asked with a slightly pained expression on his face, as if he knew he needed details, but didn't really want them since this was his niece they were talking about. He was sitting on the couch next to Patrick.

"Happy. She was very happy. We, uh…" Patrick frowned and looked at his father who was standing behind the chair Anna Devane was sitting on.

"What?" Anna snapped.

"We planned on my making her dinner tonight. My special macaroni and cheese." He shared a slight smile with his father before continuing. "Because she was going to be working later than me, meeting with my father, she gave me a key to let myself in."

"Don't tell me, you freaked out." Mac who hadn't heard this part of the story yet, rolled his eyes.

"I was surprised, for a moment. I assure you everything was fine before I left, which I only did because I got called in by the hospital." Patrick's voice was hard with frustration. "Why are we sitting here grilling me when we should be out there looking for Robin?" Unable to stay seated anymore he jumped up and stalked behind the couch.

Anna and Mac shared a knowing look.

"We need a clear picture of the last time anyone saw Robin. Where was she the last time you saw her?"

"I'm not the last person to have seen her, I couldn't have been. She went out shopping, a friend had an emergency. That's it. Some friend of hers had an emergency!" Patrick stood with his hands on his hip glaring at everyone.

"Where was she the last time you saw her?" Mac asked again.

"She was in bed. That bed. Over there. Do you want to know what she was wearing or wasn't wearing too?" He pointed towards the bedroom. "Now she's not. So can we stop standing around here like she's magically…" Patrick broke off and swore. He closed his eyes. He wanted her to come walking through that door more than anything right now. First, he'd sweep her into his arms and then he'd give her hell for worrying everyone.

"Son." Noah walked over and tried to put his hand on Patrick's tense shoulder. Patrick moved away. "Anna and Mac know what they're doing. There are people out there already looking for her, including a lot of people who know and care for her. She's going to be fine."

It was on the tip of Patrick's tongue to ask his father if that promise was as firm as the one he gave before taking his mother into surgery, but he had enough presence of mind to realize that he was lashing out at the wrong people. He knew he needed to stay calm. Logical.

"Are you sure she had no reason to want to disappear, that nothing happened between the two of you. She got upset, ran off?" Mac asked.

"Dammit, Mac. I'm telling you she was happy. We…we're working on where we're going with this, us. Do I need to take a lie detector test? Some sort of forensics tests so you could stop looking at me like I did something to Robin? Call the hospital, they'll verify where I was all day! I don't know where the hell she is!"

"Mac." Anna Devane's strong, cultured voice cut through the tension. "I don't believe Patrick is lying. I know that Robin was very happy with Patrick. She invited me here to meet him. Even if she wanted to run off for some reason she would have told someone where she was going. You. Me. The hospital. This isn't like Robin."

"Exactly, so now can we get down to doing something productive?"

Mac and Anna ignored Patrick's outburst.

"We've called Jax, Nikolas, Maxie, Georgie, Felicia and everyone else on her cell phone contact list. I left a message for Brenda in case she called her. We need a list of her friends." Anna turned and looked at Patrick. "Can you help us put that together?"

"Um, yeah." He looked around for a piece of paper. When he opened her drawer he found her PDA. He pulled it out and looked at it strangely. "She syncs this up with her computer in the office. She never leaves this here."

"Put that down and don't go into her office. I have a forensics team coming any minute to go over the place. In fact, we should take this down to the station, now," Mac said.

"Forensics?" Patrick's voice was raspy, he paled. His heart started hammering in his chest and he unconsciously put a hand over the ache. The PDA dropped the few inches to the desk with a clang.

Noah moved closer in case his son needed physical support. "Are Robin's meds still here?" Noah asked quietly.

Patrick shook his head and bit his lip. "She keeps them in the kitchen." Patrick moved towards the kitchen and then looked back at Mac who nodded. Swallowing past a lump in his throat Patrick walked into the kitchen and opened the cabinet next to the refrigerator. The spot where most people kept their juice glasses was where Robin stored her meds, except now that space was empty. Stunned, Patrick backed away and then stormed out of the kitchen, ignoring everyone's shouted questions. He walked towards the bedroom where the unmade bed was visible through the open doorway.

Before he could enter Mac grabbed him by the arm. "You can't touch anything."

"I need to see, Mac. Her meds are gone. I need to see." His voice was quiet, but firm.

"Wear gloves." Mac let him go when Patrick nodded.

Patrick walked through the bedroom directly into the bathroom and pulled gloves out of the box Robin kept near the first aid kit. He put them on and opened the shower door. Her shampoo and conditioner were gone. So was the vanilla and lavender body wash he had been teasing her about just that morning. Stone-faced, Patrick walked into the bedroom and began opening drawers, one after another, his face darkening with each one. He looked up at Mac and Anna watching him from the doorway. "They're a mess. She never leaves a mess. What the hell is going on? Where is Robin?"

* * *

They put him in a windowless interrogation room to wait. He paced the length of it over and over again. He had gone over the timeline again, this time it was typed up by a clerk and he signed it like he was a suspect. His fingerprints were taken to compare to the ones they'd find in Robin's apartment. He had also given them permission to inspect his locker at work, his car and his hotel room. He felt like a criminal, but he didn't give a shit, nothing mattered but finding Robin. For the millionth time he asked himself where she could be. It had been over eighteen hours since he had seen her. Eighteen hours and no one had seen or heard from her. According to forensics no emails had been sent out that morning and there were no calls in or out of her cell phone or house phone other than the messages from himself, his father and others at the hospital looking for her.

It was like she had just disappeared off the face of the earth.

"Patrick Drake?"

Patrick stopped pacing, braced himself and turned to face his latest interrogator. He nodded.

"I'm Aidan Devane, Robin's cousin."

The tension dropped out of Patrick's shoulders and he walked forward to shake the proffered hand. "Robin's told me about you. You're an investigator, right?"

"Yes, and former…"

"Spy, yes it seems to be the family trade, not that it's helping much today. Sorry." Patrick forced a weak smile and put his hands on his hips.

"You're worried for Robin. I can't fault you for that. She's a Devane-Scorpio she'll be fine."

"Does the mean you don't think I did something to her like everyone else around here except for her mother and my father?" Patrick sagged back against the concrete wall in relief.

"No one really suspects you, Patrick. They're just eliminating the possibilities because that's the first thing that must be done when there's no other obvious clues."

"Excuse me for not getting that when I've been locked in here, fingerprinted and questioned for hours." Patrick rubbed his forehead tiredly.

"Have you had dinner, mate?" Aidan tilted his head.

Patrick blanched. At Aidan's questioning look he told him, "I was supposed to make dinner for Robin tonight," he said softly.

"Come on, Mate. Let's get something to eat." Aidan held the door open.

* * *

Patrick walked into his hotel room to find it in shambles courtesy of the cops. "I can't believe this is happening," he mumbled as he tossed his keys onto the table near the door and walked further into the room without turning on any lights.

Despite the personal items lying about, the place looked for the first time exactly what it was, a lonely hotel room. Weary beyond belief he went to the bed and sat down, hunched forward and buried his face in his hands. This just wasn't possible. This morning he had woken up, their naked bodies entwined and they had made slow love as the sun came up. She glowed with it, he remembered.

He knew deep in his gut she was happy, except for that moment when she had handed him the shiny new key to her apartment. Her happiness had slipped then, he saw it, knew it would happen but he couldn't stop himself from freezing; couldn't battle back the lick of panic in time. This had never happened to him, the only women who had ever given him a key were the fallback girls, never someone he ever genuinely cared about or who cared about more than the pleasure they could share with their bodies. This was a big step, he knew it and he knew she knew it; it was bigger than making her his mother's macaroni and cheese.

It had just been a moment, a moment when the air between them chilled, but it had passed. At least he thought it had, but now he wasn't so sure now because she was gone and she had packed. She had taken the time to pack her HIV meds, her clothes, her car. She had left her PDA, her cell phone. Maybe she had been hurt, feared he was going to back off and hurt her and she had left. He hoped so.

"How sick is that," he said into the empty room, commenting on how sick it was that he was hoping she had decided she'd had enough of him and ran away to lick her wounds before she came back and delivered him a swift kick in the balls. Because it was better than the alternative, the thing he wouldn't even allow himself to think.

He had spent the last couple of hours with Robin's cousin Aidan. He had genuinely liked the guy. They'd gone to Converse, a sports bar on the seedy side of town where he didn't know anyone and he'd never gone with Robin. A place that had an open kitchen and a crowd not interested in the stilted conversation of two brooding men. They hadn't spoken much, and he knew that Aidan was picking his brain about Robin's life but he hadn't been offended, he'd been hopeful that Aidan could find where Robin had gone.

Patrick sat up and stretched his sore legs in front of him, as he did so something sharp in his pocket stabbed at him. He closed his eyes and stood up and stuck his hand in the pocket of his black pants. The key. He opened his eyes and looked at the silver item in his palm. Without giving himself time to think he got up, grabbed a pile of clothing from the open drawers and began throwing them into a small suitcase. Moments later he was gone, the door slamming behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks for all the great feedback. This is just a short one. More soon._

**Chapter Three**

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_I almost told Patrick that I love him tonight. I wonder who would have been more surprised if I had – me or him. It couldn't even get more cliché – it was during sex and in the middle of a toe-curling and clearly mind-numbing orgasm and it almost slipped out. Some cosmic power must have stepped in because instead of the "I love you" that was on the tip of my tongue I said – screamed, really – "Harder." It actually makes me laugh to see that juxtaposition.

* * *

_  
This time when Patrick got to Robin's apartment door it was tightly closed and there was yellow crime scene tape strung across the door. Without a moment's hesitation Patrick ripped it down and let himself in.

Her apartment was even more of a mess than his hotel room. He dropped his suitcase by the front door and walked in and began picking couch cushions up off the floor and putting them back the way Robin liked them. He then walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge and grabbed one of the beers that she had taken to keeping for him here for the rare occasions he indulged in alcohol. He went to lean on the counter when he noticed that cabinet doors open that had to be closed, jars that had to be straightened. He took a swig of beer before putting it down on the counter and bending down to take a bottle of cleaner out from under the sink and grabbing a handful of paper towels off the brushed metal holder she had sitting on the counter. He went to work wiping the fingerprint dust off the cabinets, the counter, the appliances, the breakfast nook table, the door to the small balcony off her kitchen and everywhere he could see it. Once he started, he couldn't stop. It needed to be normal, clean, the way she liked it. He needed to be busy. He was about to toss the towels into the garbage when he stopped short. The garbage was now empty and he had seen enough crime dramas to know the cops had probably taken it. He shook the morbid thoughts away and got another bag out.

On his way back to the living room he picked the tablecloth from the dining table off the floor, shook it out and folded it and placed it on the table. Then he walked over to Robin's office, beer in hand, and sat down at her desk.

Her cell phone and charger were gone. Her papers were in shambles, her computer was still there; Aidan told him that they had duped it for further investigation, but didn't want to take it offline in case she, or someone else, tried to contact her that way. Aidan had suggested that Patrick look through things himself in case there was something he saw something they missed.

"_You know her better than almost anyone."_

That's what Aidan had said and yesterday, two days ago, Patrick amended, he might have agreed. Today, he wasn't so sure he knew her at all. The thought physically pained him.

He turned on her monitor and typed in the password he had seduced out of her one night when he wanted to get online to check his own email. His fingers paused over the keyboards as the sensations of making love to Robin on the floor by the computer bombarded him.

_Laughter, the room had been full of laughter, then the sounds of passion and then laughter again. He had gotten the password and she had lain sated and unmoving on the floor while he checked his email._

A slight smile curved Patrick's lips as he relived the memory, then the eerie quiet of the apartment pressed in around him and he continued typing. First, he checked his own email in case there was something from her. There was nothing, just a bawdy joke from his medical school friend Tyler and some spam. Then he switched to Robin's Outlook and began scanning her inbox. A lot of stuff from Brenda who they still hadn't heard from, which Patrick secretly hoped meant that the two friends had spirited away together in some man-hating pact, and other friends that he recognized, many he did not and some colleagues.

He scanned through the folders. He wasn't surprised to see that she had a system. Things were organized into categories and sub-categories. "Friends." "General Hospital" "Sorbonne" "Trials" "Articles" "Research" and so on. The most voluminous and recent emails were in a sub-folder under "Background" – there were a bunch of emails about drug protocol X65746, something Patrick had never heard of but apparently Robin was working on quite actively with some doctor in Europe. Not finding anything of note and too tired to think straight Patrick was about to shut off the monitor when something on the floor by the desk caught his eye.

He bent down and picked up the photograph. The color on the print was strange, like the lighting was off or the printer was running out of ink. But the strangest thing was that it was a picture of him during the epidemic wearing the smothering and smelly protective gear of that time. He held the photo closer to the light of the monitor and recognized that he was sitting in the hospital chapel. His eyes were closed and he winced when he saw that there was a tear on his cheek. He could pinpoint the moment exactly because it wasn't like he made a habit of sitting in the hospital or, for that matter, any chapel. It was after Robin had refused to take the antidote.

That night he had sat with her until she had fallen into an uneasy sleep and then he checked on some other patients. At some point in the early hours of morning he had passed the chapel doors, remembered Liz's heartfelt plea for her husband and after debating it for a moment told himself it was as good a place as any to sit down for a few minutes. He hadn't prayed, exactly, but probably as close as he thought he'd ever come since before his mother had died. He thought about Robin, about what he would do if she had died. He remembered trying to convince himself he felt the way he did because she was a respected colleague and that he'd never lost a patient before. Even that she was just another attractive female he wanted to get to know better. He had been barely fooling himself then, but he wasn't fooling himself now. He cared about her, very deeply. Might even…shaking his head he put the photo down and turned off the computer monitor. He sat for a moment and tried to let the dark ease him. It didn't.

He retrieved his suitcase from the where he left it at the front door and put it down in the bedroom and then went into the _en suite_ bathroom and automatically began to put it back into order much as he had the kitchen. He found two bottles of bath wash in the linen closet, one was a plain style and the other bottle was a spare of the pretty French stuff she used. He chuckled to himself as he imagined she had probably bought the generic stuff for him but was torturing him with her feminine one for a while first. Or she was hesitant to give it to him and he grimaced as he imagined himself freezing like he had with the key. Without letting himself think about it he left the generic one in the cabinet. He turned the shower on hot and stripped his clothes off and got in.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

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* * *

**

_I hadn't even set foot on Port Charles soil, and already I was back in the madness of Jason's world. Sam convinced me to get on a train with her to come back to General Hospital and treat Jason. I should have known it wouldn't be that easy. I should have known that a madman who was after Sonny and Jason and everyone associated with them would crash the train I was on with Sam. That's just the way life is in Jason's world. Jason and Sonny found us in the wreckage, but unfortunately so did Manny Ruiz, said crazed madman, and he shot me. Two minutes back in Jason's orbit and already I've been shot. I want to help him, but I also just want to get back to my safe little life where I treat my patients and complete my research. Where no one gets killed by gunplay and where my main goal is to do no harm and actually save lives rather than take them. As long as I stick to medicine and stay out of this mob world, I'll be safe. I'll be okay._

_

* * *

_

This was the first time he had ever been alone in her bedroom. He stood in the doorway between her bedroom and the bathroom, bare-chested with a pair of Columbia sweatpants on. Rubbing a towel through his hair mindlessly, he remembered the last time he wore these sweats at her place. She had stared at his pants as she defiantly pulled her Yale t-shirt over her head. He had taken great pleasure in ripping it off of her minutes later, ending that night's version of "my school is better than yours" debate. Now, it was just quiet. That was the first thing he noticed, how deathly quiet it was without her there.

Things between Robin and Patrick were anything but quiet. There was always talking, be it full-fledged fighting or passionate discussions and lately there had been more and more laughter. Even when they were silent - in bed enjoying the Sunday Times, Robin wordlessly passing him the Sports section so he could see how the Oilers were doing in the Stanley Cup race - the quiet was not like this. This was suffocating him. He closed his eyes and wished he could hear her needle him on his choice of hockey teams. "Why," she always asked him, "would a man from New York follow the Edmonton Oilers? Where's your hometown pride?" He would kill for another go round of what sport is better: hockey or football, with Robin accusing him of being a secret agent from Canada, since everyone knew that football was America's sport. Instead, he was faced with silence. Just silence.

He walked, unseeing, to her side of the bed and collapsed on it. Rubbing his hand through his damp hair Patrick looked around, his glance ending on her bedside table. Her beeper was gone. He wasn't sure if the police had it, or if Robin had smuggled it with her when she was taken. Or when she left of her own free will. Frustrated, Patrick sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Just what the hell is going on here, Robin?" he whispered. Curious, he used his damp towel to wipe off the fingerprint dust residue from the nightstand and opened the drawer to see what was there. Maybe, he told himself, there would be a clue as to where she was. He smiled. "Look at me looking for clues. I've been hanging around your family too much, Scorpio." He dug in and pulled everything out and placed it on the bed next to him. Nothing screamed clue to Patrick. A couple of folded up Kleenex and spare buttons. An old issue of the New England Journal of Medicine, its pages marked with post-its. He flipped it open and noticed that most of the post-its were marking pages in an article about drug protocol X65746. Robin had written notes throughout the margins and over most of the post-its. It looked like she had disagreed with some of the findings that the author, a Dr. Renee Laurent, had concluded. It was the same protocol he had seen referenced in her email. It was nice to know that he wasn't the only doctor Robin was hounding. He put it aside and went back to the pile. There were a handful of pens, a pad of paper from St. Vincent's Hospital in Geneva, Switzerland, and a "Thinking of You" card from Brenda. He flipped it open and read the note she had written inside.

_Robin Hood - Please, don't even try to tell me that this  
ass just wants casual sex. A man who is not interested  
in you does not follow you halfway around the world to  
help you save your dad. Let's talk – same time as usual  
and I'll give you my insightful advice. Love, Bren_

Patrick winced. She had horrible taste in men (Sonny Cornithos?), but Brenda sure could read them. She knew before he did, or at least before he was willing to admit it to himself, that he was interested in more than just a one-night stand with Robin.

He flicked the card aside and picked up the last item, a chocolate colored, leather bound journal, tied closed with leather straps. He paused momentarily, wondering if he should invade Robin's privacy this way, and then tore into it. He needed to find out what had happened to her, and this could provide him with some much needed insight. She'd just have to forgive him…if she ever found out. He sighed deeply and flipped through the book, seeing without really seeing. Words flashed by him, _"And then who knocks at the door? Gwen, that Amazon from Grace Memorial…" "Dad told me I was frigid and old before my time tonight…" "It broke my heart to tell Maxie that he was gone. I flashed right back to October 1996 and my last moments with Stone…"_ He comprehended nothing until, _"Dad doesn't approve of Patrick." _That one stopped him. What the hell? He pulled her pillow out and pushed it against the headboard, settling in.

_Dad doesn't approve of Patrick. How many fathers would be thrilled if their daughter was dating a brain surgeon? Not my dad. He likes Patrick well enough, they are so alike after all, but I think he'd prefer it if I was dating the chief of police, or better yet a WSB Agent – some sort of super spy who could keep me safe. What he forgets is I'm his daughter. For God's sake I'm a Scorpio **and** a Devane. I'm an expert shot (pistols, rifles, hell I could probably handle a rocket grenade launcher if I had to. Hmmm… note to self, maybe don't offer this information up to Patrick). I'm proficient in Krav Maga (Mom insisted we study together when we were both in Paris. She said you never knew when it would come in handy.) And I'm a black belt in jujitsu. I can take care of myself and Patrick too if need be. But who's going to come after me? I'm just a doctor, not a spy like Mom and Dad. And I'm no longer the girlfriend of a mob enforcer. The fact is I feel safer with Patrick than I've ever felt in any other relationship in my life. Mom, Dad, Duke, Stone, Jason…I had reason to look over my shoulder then. Not anymore. Now the only threat is to my heart…_

Patrick shut the book, a lump in his throat, and clutched it to his chest. Her father was right; he hadn't been able to keep her safe. He thought he knew Robin so well, but did he really? Krav Maga? He wasn't even sure he knew what that was – he vaguely knew it had something to do with the Israeli Army, but what in the world was Robin studying it for? His heart jumped in his chest. Was it for this possibility? Someone coming into her home and taking her?

Except, Patrick swallowed and in his head heard Mac's words. _"There's no sign of a struggle." _The only struggle evident seemed to be Robin trying to decide what to pack. Patrick punched the pillow and lay down. He lay awake for a long time trying to fit all the pieces together.

5:00 am. The alarm clock was mocking him. It had been almost 24 hours since he'd last seen Robin. He knew he needed to get some sleep, but he couldn't bring himself to close his eyes knowing that Robin could be out there and in trouble. He pulled himself off of her bed and wandered into her office again.

He didn't know what he was looking for, so he wandered around the edge of the room, looking at the books on her bookshelves, flipping through files, examining all of the pictures placed around the room on every flat surface, before he sat down at her desk for the second time that night. He pulled the sheets of paper strewn across it and made a neat pile out of them, placing the pile to the side. He saw a small framed picture next to the monitor that he hadn't noticed earlier and picked it up. It was a picture of him and Robin at the race track. They were both wearing sunglasses, and she had her hair up in a ponytail and in a New York Giants ball cap (that darn football argument again), and they were both smiling like fools. It had been such a great day. Admittedly, he originally had taken her just to get her away from everything – the hospital, her father, any and all distractions. He wanted her all to himself and he didn't want to be interrupted. The fact that he got to share this experience, her first race, was a bonus. She'd loved the noise, the adrenalin, and the excitement of the race. This meal of corndogs and beer went infinitely better than the last debacle at the Metro Court, and he was able to whisk her off to the hotel room he had reserved for them without a word of protest from her. In fact, she had been just as eager to get to the room. Who knew a little NASCAR would make Robin Scorpio so hot. He put the picture down and rubbed his face again, searching the room for anything that would tell him where Robin was.

* * *

He could feel her breath on his cheek. "Paging Dr. Drake," she murmured. "Oh, Dr. Drake…"

He opened his eyes and fought to focus on her. She was smiling and leaning over him. A silver key hung from a chain around her neck and dangled above him. "Robin? Where have you been?" He sat up quickly and pulled her to him.

She laughed. "What is with you Patrick? I'm right here. I didn't go anywhere. Hey, what are you doing on my side of the bed? Didn't we have this fight already? When we're at my place I get the right side of the bed."

"What are you talking about? You didn't show up for your shift at GH today. Your Uncle Mac had a team of CSI's here going over your stuff with a fine tooth comb. You're mom is worried about you and I've been going crazy."

Robin stood up smiling, and started to walk away. Her bare feet made imprints in the blue fingerprint dust Patrick noticed covering the floor. He looked down at her feet, and then up to her face, confused.

"Robin? Where are you going?"

She tossed him a look over her shoulder and just smiled. He heard a phone ring and Robin looked down at her hands. She turned around and held the phone out to him. "It's for you."

Patrick's eyes popped open. The ringing was shrill and cut through his head sounding right in his ear. He suddenly realized he was slumped over Robin's desk and that it was his cell phone making the noise. He had taken his phone with him from room to room the night before, in case Robin had tried to call him, and he must have dropped it on her desk at some point before passing out. He flipped it open urgently. "Robin?"

"No mate, I'm sorry, it's me." Aidan sounded pained.

"Have you found her?"

Aidan paused, unsure how to broach this with him. Patrick sounded like he was at the end of his rope, and Aidan didn't want to be the one to send him spiraling over the edge. He took a deep breath and decided to plunge right in. "No. But we've found her car."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

**

* * *

**

_One of the few certainties that we have in life is that we are going to die. At least, that's the way it's supposed to be. Tonight I'm not so sure. Between people that I've loved – Stone, my grandmother and people I've seen die – patients, people who worked for Sonny and Jason – and the people that I've been led to believe have died who have come back to life – Brenda, my mother, name your Cassadine, Sonny and now, my father – the numbers are running neck in neck. This latest resurrection blows out of the water the only other certainty I've held in this life - that my father loved me and loved me fiercely, unconditionally and would do anything to get back to me. This was a truth I held in my bones even before I met my Robbie and learned who my father was. Turns out, neither death nor my father's love is a certainty, after all. He was never going to tell me he was alive. He never tried to help my mother. Now, I'm left floundering to figure out what and who I can trust. I'm wondering if it even matters._

_

* * *

_

It's beyond irony to Patrick that this is where Robin's car has been found - in the parking lot of State Liquor Store #27 in Nashua, New Hampshire. Patrick can remember driving past this and other New Hampshire State liquor stores like it a million times growing up. Up 95 on trips with the Senator to Kennebunkport, Maine, on trips with friends to go camping and rafting in the Maine rivers through any route that caught their fancy and the irony of all ironies, to this particular store many crazy weekends in his teen and college years when he and his friends wanted to get alcohol and knew that they weren't going to get it anywhere near their parents' place on the Cape. It was the store of choice for party-goers - cheap, tax-free liquor courtesy of the State of New Hampshire. It was only when Patrick's own father drowned himself in a bottle that those trips lost their allure.

Now, Patrick stood with his hands on his hips as he watched the Nashua Police Department's forensics team, under the no-nonsense eye of Aidan and Anna Devane pour over Robin's Toyota Camry for forensic evidence. His eyes are hidden behind sunglasses, but one doesn't need to see his eyes to perceive the tension and anguish that has been steaming through him since he heard what the cops said before they were roughly silenced by Aidan.

He heard them say that the odds of finding kidnap victims waned with every passing hour, especially for women who were often the victim of sexual assault first. He heard them talk about the hundreds of thousands of people who go missing every year in the United States and never get found. He heard how if people don't want to be found they won't. He heard them mention that they were in walking distance of the railroad. He heard it all and couldn't say a damn thing, because if he did he would be acknowledging that the words have been said and that they could possibly apply to Robin, the woman he can still feel surrounding him and inside him. Forces like Robin's cannot just be gone. He won't accept that, but with every moment of helplessness he's fighting a losing battle and he's fighting it the only way he knows how.

He is fighting to not let anything that has been said in and around him today to get through to him. Not Aidan's joke about how "pretty" he smelt when he got in the car with him this morning. Not what the cops had to say and not even Anna's firm determination that Robin is fine, despite what the hick cops had to say. The only thing that he's letting though is his father's unflagging support, though a part of him almost wishes that Noah wasn't there because, oddly, Noah reminds him of Robin; but he knows deep in his gut that he probably would not be even be standing if Noah wasn't there. He fully understands more than ever how and why Noah turned to the bottle when his wife died. Robin is not his wife and he's known her barely more than nine months and he feels almost crippled by her absence. And he doesn't even know she's dead.

She can't be.

He looks around for his father and realizes that he's standing right next to him, Patrick hadn't noticed him approach. The last time he saw him he was having a private conversation with Anna Devane after she started to let loose on the local cops for saying the things that Patrick can't chase out of his mind.

"Say something to piss me off," Patrick asks Noah, who looks at him dubiously, but not without understanding. Indeed, Noah knows what he's talking about. The father-son relationship has settled in recent months into something resembling a friendly war – they challenge the hell out of each other and they protect each other just as fiercely. He knows his son needs the challenge and the protection in equal measure.

"What do you want me to say? That I really need a drink? That Robin probably ran off with her dry cleaner?" Noah puts his hand on Patrick's arm and squeezes.

Patrick just sighs and walks closer to where Anna is again talking to the cops. He's not sure what it's going to take to piss him off right now either, he just yearns to feel something besides this quiet fear. As he gets close he hears Anna insisting that the police canvas the area for witnesses. He hears the local captain state he already has men on it. He hears them say they've taken custody of the video tapes from the security cameras and are comparing them to the photo of Robin that they've brought with them.

It's the photo from Robin's hospital ID. Patrick doesn't think it does Robin's beauty justice and that it doesn't convey a sense of urgency that one would have to find her if they could see the essence of her. When he started to say so, his father put his hand on his shoulder and led him away. As he seemed to have been doing for everyone all day long.

"It'll be some hours before everything is processed. Do you want to take a walk with me?" Aidan's voice startles him, he hadn't noticed Aidan approaching him. He feels a momentary and welcome flash of irritation at the fact that he's standing around useless and in a fog. He looks and sees the photos of Robin that Aidan holds in his hand and knows that this is not intended to be a friendly or relaxing walk. Patrick nods and turns his head to find his father. Noah, he notes absently, is now standing with Anna talking to someone in a suit.

"FBI. Since state lines have been crossed and Anna's WSB the FBI is now involved," Aidan explains. Patrick has nothing to say to that.

Patrick falls into step with Aidan as they walk. They go to the Pizza Depot which is closest and show Robin's photo. Patrick looks around as Aidan talks and tries to picture Robin here. He can't. They go to the drugstore, the pet store and all the other stores that line South Main Street all they way to Hayward's Ice Cream store. Patrick remembers that Robin's mother was once married to Dr. David Hayward, infamous heart surgeon and chemist and the story Robin told him about consulting with David on a compound a couple of years back.

No one has seen her. Aidan leaves photos behind with his phone number on the back. Patrick sees the sympathy in the people's eyes and says nothing.

They take the helicopter back to Port Charles and at the heliport discuss where they're going to work out of because it's now become necessary for them to have a base of operations. Patrick is thankful for Anna and Aidan's competence in this area because for the first time in his life he is out of his depth and quickly slipping deeper. Mac's they dismiss because of Felicia and the girls and their attendant drama. Apparently, Anna has not had a productive night's sleep there already.

"My place is bigger than Robin's and has plenty of room. I even have extra bedrooms if you and Aidan want to stay with me," Noah offers and looks at Patrick.

Anna sees the look and understands immediately. She gives her daughter's boyfriend a thoughtful look before agreeing. Aidan turns down the invitation to stay, says he is borrowing an old colleague's place and that Noah's place is convenient.

* * *

"I haven't been able to reach Robert." Anna paces around the back of the couch. 

"Is that something to worry about?" Noah asks as he puts a pitcher of water on the dining room table they've turned into a work surface. He's changed out of his suit and is wearing jeans and Kiss t-shirt.

"More like par for course. I've called on some deeper connections to try and find him."

"Maybe Luke can find him?" Everyone turns to look at Patrick. This is the longest sentence he's said all day since setting eyes on Robin's car.

"Worth a shot," Aidan says.

"I'll call him." Noah stands back up and puts his hand on Patrick's shoulder as he passes.

Anna shoots Aidan a look and motions towards the stairs. Aidan takes the hint and leaves Mama Devane alone with Patrick.

"I know you care about my daughter and you probably feel some obligation to help because you are sleeping with her." Anna puts a hand up when Patrick tries to speak. "I know, you and Robin recently agreed to be more than friends with benefits and that you finally allowed her to call you her boyfriend. I know that my daughter cares a great deal about you, but I don't have time to babysit anyone who's here because you think it's expected. I need to find my daughter so if you're not committed to this, to her one hundred percent then you might as well go back to the hospital and let us do our work."

Patrick stood stunned for a moment. Then he got angry. "I'm not here for any reason other than to find Robin and make sure she gets home safe and healthy. You might disapprove of me and everything Robin and I have been through, but frankly your daughter is a grown woman who makes her own decisions and she chose me and I chose her. I…" Patrick broke off, breathing heavily "I care about Robin so much. You can hate me all you want but I'm not going anywhere."

"Good. Then I need for you to be alert and think back over the past weeks and let me know if you think of anything that pops out at you. Tell me even if you think it's stupid. Anything you find at your place or Robin's." Anna looked at Patrick meaningfully. "It's likely that Robin left under duress, even though there is no evidence of a struggle, and she would have left clues behind or be sending us clues. She will most likely send them to you, me or Brenda because we are the people closest to her."

Patrick allows himself to be mollified by her inclusion of him in that group.

"I have her phone with me." Patrick takes it out and puts it on the table.

Anna nods in approval. The calls are being monitored by Mac's team and now the FBI, but it is a good idea to keep it with them. "Never doubt she's coming home to us." Anna's eyes, so like her daughter's, bore into Patrick's.

* * *

Hours later Anna hung up Noah's phone and turned to face the other three now spread out in Noah's living room.

"What is it, Anna?" Noah asked.

"Only Robin's fingerprints were found in the car."

"What does that mean?" Patrick asked.

"Might mean nothing. Might mean that Robin is the one who drove the car to New Hampshire," Aidan explained. "Wipes?"

"Nothing seemed to be wiped down. They found Robin's prints. Patrick's. Maxie's and Georgie's. Some random prints that appear to be from car wash employees, but they're checking those, of course."

"What about other…stuff?" Patrick asked, his voice raspy.

"No blood," Anna said.

Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief.

"What the hell is going on? Sorry." Patrick winced, wishing he could find something new to ask, but there really wasn't anything else to say. They were exactly nowhere as far as he could tell.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the front door.

"Are you expecting someone, Noah?" Anna asked, reaching for her gun which she had placed on the table behind the couch. "Ask who it is."

Noah walked over to the door and looked out the peephole and shook his head at Anna and Aidan who were backing him up with guns drawn. Patrick stood off to the side, ready for whatever.

Anna walked over and took a look and then put her gun down. She swung the door open wide. "Well, well, well, Sean Donely, what brings you here?" She put her hands on her hips.

Sean held up an envelope. "I know where Robin is."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

**

* * *

**

_I took Patrick dancing tonight. I think I shocked him – he didn't think serious Dr. Scorpio liked to let loose. When I told him I had been a dancer nearly all my life and had briefly considered pursuing it professionally he nearly spit out his drink. I had taken him to The Kells for 80's night. We did a few shots, sang along with the band and danced to Men in Hats. By the end of the night we could hardly keep our hands off each other.

* * *

_  
"I know where Robin is."

Anna pulled Sean in and hugged him tight. "Sean, when I called you I didn't mean for you to drop everything and fly out here."

"Anna, this is my goddaughter we're talking about. I'm not going to leave her out there if she's in trouble."

Anna closed the door behind him and ushered him in. "Come on in. Let me introduce you to everyone. You remember my nephew, Aidan?"

"Of course. Good to see you again."

"You too Sean."

"This young man standing behind the door ready to pounce is Patrick Drake." She looked at Sean pointedly. "Robin's Patrick."

"Ah yes. The doctor," Sean said, stepping forward. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"You too." _'Finally meet me? Just who the hell is this guy?'_ Patrick wondered. He could feel his chest tighten. Robin had obviously shared their – whatever this was – with the people in her life she was closest to. He had shared with, well, no one.

"And this is Noah Drake. Noah, this is Sean Donely, an old WSB colleague, and a close family friend. Back in the day Robert, Sean and I were like the Three Musketeers. We were an amazing team."

Noah smiled and shook Sean's hand. "You still in the business Sean?"

"I guess you could say I'm more of a consultant now."

Anna led everyone back into the dining room. "So, what did you find?"

Sean pulled out a large manila envelope and dropped it on the table. "She's fine, Anna. It looks like she may have taken a little vacation."

Patrick could feel his blood start to boil. "Vacation? Are you kidding me?" Patrick couldn't believe what he was hearing. Clearly the man was insane.

"Patrick." Noah moved toward his son, and Patrick held up a hand to keep him at bay.

"No, Dad. I want to know how this guy can possibly come up with 'Robin's on vacation' as a conclusion. No offense, but you've been away from this spy business for what? Ten, fifteen years? You say you're a consultant now. Isn't that just a fancy word for retired? I've seen Super Spy Robert Scorpio in action lately and it's not very impressive. For god's sake, a few months back he let a teenager knock him unconscious three times. So, forgive me if I don't just buy your conclusion that Robin decided to go hang out by a pool and get a tan. It's ridiculous."

"Listen son. I've been doing this a long time - "

"Robin wouldn't just leave. And she certainly wouldn't leave without telling anyone where she was going."

"Patrick, stop." Anna moved towards him. The two men glared at each other, neither backing down.

"No Anna, it's ok." Sean crossed his arms in front of him. "You think my investigative skills are waning? My perception is off? Do you, Patrick Joseph Drake? Born March 5, 1978 at Mount Sinai Hospital to Noah Joseph Drake, born August 23, 1950 and Madeline Lee Drake, born June 4, 1953, died October 31, 1996."

"Just what the hell –" Noah stepped forward, eyes blazing.

Sean kept talking, his concentration focused on Patrick. "You did your undergraduate studies at Columbia, then attended Harvard Medical School. You were an excellent student, with the exception of that one semester sophomore year. English lit was not kind to you, was it Patrick? You got a 'C' I believe." Sean laughed and walked around Patrick, who was standing glued to the spot, hands on his hips. Sean stopped in front of him so he could stare him in the eyes. "I haven't even gotten to your extracurricular activities yet. Should we talk about Sophie from your first year of residency?"

"You had my son investigated?"

Patrick stared back at him silently as Sean continued. "I've taken a bullet for that girl, Dr. Drake. I would never let anything happen to her. Can you say the same thing?"

"Don't you dare suggest that my son doesn't care about Robin," Noah started to lunge for Sean but before he could reach him, Aidan had grabbed his elbow and Anna ran between them.

"Stop it, Sean. That's enough. We're on the same side here. Patrick, I can assure you, Sean is perfectly competent, and Sean, everyone here has Robin's best interests at hand. Now can we cut the macho crap and remember what's important? We need to find my daughter. Everyone, sit down."

Patrick's head dipped down and he swallowed hard and nodded then walked silently to the dining room table. Noah followed with his hand on Patrick's shoulder while glaring at Sean.

Anna opened the envelope and dumped the contents out. As she sifted through the pieces of paper, Sean pulled out a small pad from his jacket and flipped it open. "Robin was spotted at the American Airlines counter at the Manchester International Airport in New Hampshire at 6:44am on Tuesday. My contacts confirmed there was a passenger named Robin Cates on Flight 395 to Toronto."

"Cates?" Noah looked from Anna to Patrick, confused.

Patrick stood up and walked over to the doorway, his back to the rest of the group. The name Cates caused his jaw to tense and he was sickened by the reaction. Patrick Drake didn't compete for women. If they weren't interested – and really, when did that happen – he moved on to the next lucky girl. He traced the door fame with his long fingers and sighed. It was hard to compete with a ghost. "Stone, Dad," Patrick whispered. "Stone Cates."

Clearing his throat, Sean continued. "She's also used her debit and credit cards."

Anna picked up a pile of receipts and read them. "She used her credit card to purchase a new pair of sunglasses at a CVS in Derry, New Hampshire on Monday, and charged a room at the Wayfarer Inn in Bedford that night. Then on Tuesday she bought an Aquafina and a Nestle Crunch at the airport, and a non-fat latte, blueberry scone and NY Times from a Starbucks in Toronto. She used an ATM later that afternoon at a Scotia Bank on Yonge Street in Toronto."

Sean threw a picture onto the pile. "She doesn't look to be in any distress here."

Patrick picked up the photo and stared at it. It was distorted, a fisheye view. Obviously a photo taken at the ATM of Robin, hair in a ponytail, ballcap in place. And a small smile on her lips. He passed it over to Anna. "This doesn't prove that she's left on her own. There could be someone off camera forcing her to take out money."

Anna nodded. "I have to agree Sean. We need to send someone up there to check on her. Do your contacts know where she's staying? Is she still in Toronto?"

"I've got a picture of her taken from a security camera at a Banana Republic about a block away from the ATM." Sean threw down another picture of Robin holding a pair of pants at the cash register. "Unfortunately the trail ends there. I've asked to have a couple of local agents keep an eye out for her. But Anna, I really think there's nothing to – "

"Noah, were you able to get a hold of Luke?" Anna ignored Sean's train of thought.

"Anna-"

"No, Sean. I appreciate what you've done, but you have got to know as well as I do that Robin wouldn't just leave Port Charles and not tell anyone where she was going. And she certainly wouldn't drive her car to New Hampshire, abandon it, and then fly to Toronto so she could buy a pair of pants." She looked at Noah. "Did you find him? Has he heard from Robert?"

Noah looked at her softly. "No. I checked with Bobbie, and she hasn't seen her brother either. She thinks he and Tracy left for Amsterdam yesterday. They're taking a second honeymoon."

"Anna, I've spoken with Robert."

Anna's head swiveled in Sean's direction. "You have? Where the hell is he? Does he know we can't find our daughter?"

"Relax. He was called on assignment by the MRA. I've updated him on what we've found and I told him I would call him if things changed. In the meantime, I told him not to worry. I'm telling you too Anna. Don't worry. Robin is fine." The tension between the two old friends was cut short when Sean's phone rang. He looked at the display. "It's Tiffany. I should take this and let her know what we've found. Excuse me." With that, Sean walked out of the dining room and the room exploded with discussion.

"Who the hell does this guy think he is?"

"Why is he insisting-"

"He had my son investigated, Anna. What kind of friend is this?"

"Enough!" Anna yelled, jumping up from the table. "He's just trying to help, and he has some significant contacts inside the WSB. We need to keep those contacts searching. I don't believe Robin's left of her own accord either." She looked at Patrick. "She wouldn't do that. We all know it. Sean's just blinded by what he sees as the facts in the case. We'll get to the bottom of it."

Patrick broke Anna's gaze. What the hell was he doing here? It wasn't like he and Robin had been together that long. He should just cut his losses, and get the hell out, because he sure as hell didn't need this. He'd been questioned by the police, the FBI, and now a WSB agent had done a thorough background check on him and was convinced that Robin was out on a shopping spree. Maybe he should just believe the old geezer. Move on with his life. Accept that Robin had left, and get back to his own life. But he couldn't just let her go. He had a feeling he couldn't shake; Robin was in trouble.

* * *

Patrick fell, exhausted, against her front door and heard it click shut, tossing her key on the credenza. He'd had enough detective work for one day. Another day over and they were no closer to finding Robin than they had been 2 days ago. They'd had a few more go-rounds once Sean had gotten off the phone, but didn't have any credible leads. Patrick had brought up the fact that it was odd that they hadn't heard from Brenda yet, and Aidan agreed to make some calls to check on her. Around midnight Noah had insisted that they all try to get some sleep and meet again the next morning. Without even thinking, Patrick had headed here. He couldn't explain what he was doing back at Robin's apartment when he had a perfectly good hotel room waiting for him at the Metro Court. He just felt like he needed to be near her, and this was the only way he could think to do it. Pushing himself away from the door, he walked over to her answering machine and pressed play, just wanting to hear her voice. He needed to hear her voice. "Hi it's Robin and I'm not here. You know what to do." The beep sounded and then silence; the only sound the rewinding of the answering machine tape. Hands on his hips, Patrick licked his bottom lip and looked at his feet. It was too damn quiet. Looking around the room, his eyes settled on Robin's stereo. He didn't care what was in her CD player, he just needed something to make some noise. Pressing play, he turned and walked away, heading towards her bedroom. Maybe he would read another entry in her journal.

_**Jessie is a friend…**_

Patrick stopped in his tracks, turning to stare at the stereo.

_**Yeah I know he's been a good friend of mine…**_

Patrick smiled. The Kells. Robin had taken him out about two months ago. Wanted to take him dancing, so they went to this old Irish Pub where it was 80's night. He remembered the night clearly. It was the night that he realized that this wasn't just sex between them, that there were real feelings screwing things up. Screwing him up.

_**But lately something's changed that ain't hard to define…**_

"_Oh my God. I love this song!" Robin grabbed his hands and pulled him off his barstool. "We have to dance!" She dragged him off to the dance floor._

"_I didn't have you pegged as a closet Rick Springfield fan."_

"_Oh, I'm not closeted. I am a full fledged, fan club card toting fan. _

"_You know, my mom used to think my dad looked like him."_

"_Really?" Robin looked off in the distance thinking. "Hmmm. Yeah, I don't see it."_

"_Neither did me and my dad. But it made Mom happy, so we let her go with it." Robin's arms curled up, around his neck and they swayed together to the music, his hands running down her back. "All that wiggling is driving me crazy," he groaned into her hair._

"_That's not wiggling, that's dancing." So saying she pressed herself against him and wiggled. _

"_Tease," he accused, saliva pooling in his mouth. She looked up at him and smiled a wicked smile. "What's that look for?"_

"_I need to have you. Now."_

_A slow smile started to play over his lips. "Right now? On the dance floor? You really like Rick Springfield don't you?"_

"_Shut up." She hooked her finger into the belt loop on his jeans and pulled him off the floor, towards the restroom. _

"_What are you doing, Scorpio?"_

"_Wait here." She ran into the ladies room and he leaned against the wall next to the doorway and crossed his arms. Suddenly an arm shot out from the door and pulled him inside. She slammed him against the closing door and kissed him urgently. Without breaking the kiss she twirled him around and pushed him into a waiting stall. _

_Patrick came up for air, his eyes glazed over, both hands fisting her hair. "Well, Dr. Scorpio."_

"_Stop talking, Dr. Drake," Robin smiled. Patrick pulled her head to his and kissed her. Robin unzipped his jeans and from seemingly nowhere pulled out a condom and slid it over his length. He stood stunned and in lust as she pulled off her panties, smiled wider and then jumped up, scissored her legs around his waist and guided him inside her. The feel of him entering her caused her to gasp and she opened her eyes, looking into his. His hands grasped her bare ass under her skirt and they moved together slowly, deeply, never losing eye contact, when suddenly he grabbed one of her hands and laced her fingers with his. _

_He felt the storm rising inside her as the legs wrapped around him began to tremble and then she let go, arching against him. He buried himself deeper inside of her and lost himself. When he came to they were slumped back against the wall breathing heavily, their sweat and arousal pungent in the air around them. That's when he knew it wasn't just sex. _

**_Where can I find a woman like that…_**

Patrick looked around Robin's living room. After that he had run, from her and his own feelings. But she couldn't have. She didn't take off on her own. She wouldn't just leave him. She wouldn't.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

**

* * *

**_When I was a little girl I thought there was only one true love for each person – the perfect match. As an adult I figured it had to be two because I had Stone and then Jason and each one fit and no one since has measured up to what I had with either of them. It made sense because my mother had my father and Duke. Felicia had Frisco and Mac. Brenda had Sonny and Jax. I could go on and on about the proof in my own life. Lately, though, I've been wondering if I'm still wrong and that's because I've met someone. Not a love at first sight, I must have him kind of someone. Actually, it's the exact opposite. He's the most arrogant, pompous, irritating, infuriating jackass I've ever met (outside France), but something about him just gets to me despite what I see on the surface. Maybe it's because I met his father first, but I sense that we have a lot in common. As much as I'll deny it out loud, I think that I could fall in love with Patrick Drake.

* * *

_  
Anna Devane sat at the counter in the kitchen, a mug of cold coffee cradled in her hands. The contents of the envelope Sean Donely had brought spread out around her on the grey, granite breakfast bar. She had been on the phone for hours already with her contacts throughout the world. The responses she was getting were far from satisfying. In fact, they were downright suspicious.

"Did you get any sleep last night?"

Noah Drake's raspy morning voice cut through Anna's concentration. She turned her head to see her handsome and unshaven host walking into the kitchen wearing a pair of blue scrub pants and a gray wife beater tee. She wasn't surprised to see the Celtic inspired tattoo on his arm since it had come up in the background check she had run on him when she found out about Robin's involvement with the man's son, but despite the photos she hadn't expected to find it and him so attractive.

"My daughter is out there, Dr. Drake, sleep is not an option right now."

"Noah," Noah corrected for the umpteenth time as he put a fresh mug of coffee down and took the cold one out of Anna's hands. "Does that mean you don't believe your colleague's preposterous claim that Robin ran off on a vacation?"

"I take it you don't?" Anna's clipped English voice held a hint curiosity and approval. She, unlike her host, was dressed for the day already in tan slacks and a dark brown silk button down shirt.

"I may not know Robin as well as you do, but I know Robin. She's honest, bold, brave, thoughtful and compassionate. And a whole heck of a lot of other qualities including stubborn as hell. She wouldn't run off leaving people behind to worry about her."

Anna nodded in agreement and picked up the photo of Robin at the ATM. "Photos are easily faked." Anna's lips pursed.

"Especially by an international spy agency. Omelet?"

"You can cook?" Anna put the photo down and turned around to watch Noah at the stove heating up a skillet. Her lips were curved into a smile.

"These hands are good for something besides surgery and holding a bottle of booze." Noah looked at Anna to see what her reaction would be to his words. He continued when he saw she wasn't surprised. "Did you know from Robin or a background check?"

Anna gave him a half smile. "I like to know who my daughter invests her time in. I wasn't around for much of her life and she fell prey to influences that did not act in her best interest. It wasn't personal."

"I'm not offended." Noah broke eggs into a glass bowl. "Robin isn't my daughter, but I love her like one. For herself and not just because my son is in love with her."

"I don't think your son has quite put it that way himself," Anna said tartly.

"He's not ready to admit it yet." Noah poured the eggs into the heated skillet and turned to face Anna again. "He won't have a choice now and it may make him act…"

"Like a jerk? You know, from what I've heard Patrick is a lot like you were before you settled down."

Noah grinned proudly as he sliced cheese. "There's some truth to that, although the motivations were different." He began to lay the strips on the eggs. "I was rebelling against my father the senator and looking for the right woman, who I found in Patrick's mother. Patrick is just afraid to love because of how badly I handled the loss of his mother. He's afraid he'll crash and burn like I did. He doesn't understand yet that he is a much better man than I ever was or could be."

"It doesn't seem like he's a better man from where I'm standing," Anna said quietly.

Noah shot her a surprised look. "I fell apart after my wife died. I abandoned my son. You know all this."

"And you admit your mistakes. That counts for a lot in my book. It's a lot more than Robin's father has done." Anna and Noah's eyes locked.

"Patrick may not want to love, but he does. And when Robin comes home he will be the man my wife raised him to be and stand up to that. She is coming home, Anna. Whatever has happened, she is coming back to us. To him."

Anna smiled her gratitude and stood up and began to gather plates and silverware, working around Noah who was at the stove. "You know, Noah, we might just end up in-laws."

Noah folded the omelet and flipped it with the flick of his wrist. He then split the omelet and put each half on the plates Anna held up. "That means we'll be spending a lot of time together in the future." He smiled slyly at her. "I, for one, don't mind a bit."

* * *

"What I don't understand is why someone who claims to love Robin and who you trust." Noah paused when Anna scrunched her face up.

"Sort of." Anna waved her hand. "The WSB and I have a checkered history."

"Someone you kind of trust would lie about Robin's whereabouts. It's almost like he's keeping you off track for some reason. Assuming this is all fake."

Anna and Noah were each sitting on one end of the couch facing each other. Anna's legs were curled up while Noah was sitting with his bare feet on the coffee table and his jean-clad knees bent up.

"Yes, keeping us off track, but why? And why can't I find her deadbeat father?"

"Do you think that's connected?" Noah took a sip from his glass of water and then leaned forward to put it back on the cherry wood coffee table.

Anna's eyes drifted down to his Steve Miller Band T-shirt and her lips quirked into a smile. "He claims he's not with the WSB anymore, but…"

"You don't believe him," Noah finished for her.

"You worked with him during the epidemic. Who did you think he really working for?"

"I thought that he was still bad at managing people and was very worried for his daughter. As to who he worked for…" Noah stopped and pursed his lips. "Now that I think of it, he was using a hospital phone to call whoever it was he was reporting to."

"And there might be phone records." Anna picked up her cell phone and pressed a button. "Aidan. Can you get phone records of calls in and out of General Hospital for the period during the epidemic? Robert was calling someone, let's find out whom." She listened while he told her something. "Good idea. See you soon." She hung up the phone and dropped it on the couch.

"Did he find anything?"

"Not yet. He's double-checking Sean's information. He's on his way up." Anna jumped up and began pacing. "We're missing something. I hate this sitting around here. I need to be out there looking for my daughter."

"Hey. Hey." Noah stood up and put his hand on Anna's arm, stopping her agitated pacing. "Look at me. Robin is fine. She will remain fine and she will come home to us. If I can do nothing else I'll keep repeating that until she's in your arms."

Anna bit her lips, swallowed and looked at Noah's hand on her silk-clad arm. He released his hold and slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans. She took a deep breath. "Thank you." She was still looking into Noah's confident, dark eyes when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it." Noah walked over to the door, looked through the peephole and then opened the door to admit Aidan.

Aidan sensed tension in the air right away. He looked from Dr. Drake to his aunt and back again. Finding nothing illuminating he walked over to Anna and handed her the file he had been compiling.

"I called that friend of yours and had him run his own check on Robin's credit and debit cards. He came up with the same information as your buddy Sean."

"That's a good thing, right?" Noah walked forward and looked over Anna's shoulder at the file Aidan had handed her.

"It's a good thing if the information is valid and Robin is really on a spur of the moment vacation," Anna drawled and dropped the file onto the coffee table. "This kind of information is easily faked, especially by the WSB or someone else who might have Robin."

"What now?" Noah asked.

"Nothing beats in-person identification. We didn't find anyone in New Hampshire who recognized Robin, but it makes sense if she didn't hang around. I'll go and retrace her trail."

Noah put his hand to his lips, thinking, as Anna and Aidan discussed logistics. "Could Patrick go with you?" he said when they reached a lull in the conversation.

Anna and Aidan looked at each other questioningly. "He could be of help," Aidan said. Then he thought for a moment. "It'll be good to have another pair of eyes and someone so invested in finding Robin. I'll make sure he's safe."

"Good, he needs to be doing something to help Robin. I'll take care of his load at the hospital," Noah said. "What are you going to do, Anna? Anything I can help with?"

"I'm going to keep trying to get in touch with Brenda. It's strange that we haven't heard back from her yet. I'll continue to tap my contacts to try and find Robert and I'll keep working on Sean Donely and see if he knows more than he's telling." Anna looked at the handsome doctor. "Keep your ears open at the hospital. Maybe Robin said something to someone about something."

Noah nodded. "It's confidential information so Mac won't be able to but I can get a list of what and who she's been working on for the past…month?"

"Make it since before the epidemic and don't get caught. Robin will never forgive us if we get your medical license revoked," Anna said.

"I wouldn't have a medical license or a life without Robin. I don't have anything to lose. I'll call Patrick and see where he is." Noah picked up the phone and dialed his son's number.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

**

* * *

**

_No strings sex. That's all it was supposed to be and I was okay with it. Hell, I thought it was a brilliant idea. No one gets hurt, right? Great move Dr. Scorpio, that's really worked out well for you. I know I wasn't the only one who felt something last night. I saw it in Patrick's eyes. I thought something unspoken had passed between us, but obviously I was wrong. And now, Patrick being Patrick just hurts too much for this to continue between us.

* * *

_  
"You up yet, Sport?"

Noah's call had come just in time. He didn't want to think about that night anymore; how he'd royally screwed up the next day. The thing was, Patrick had known that's what he was doing – he knew he was hurting her, but he couldn't stop himself. And now he couldn't get that look on her face out of his head. That look she gave him when she had rounded the corner and caught him with that nurse. He shook his head and laughed ruefully. He couldn't even remember her name, but she had smiled at him and he had been so off-kilter from the night before he did what came naturally to get him back on track and centered: he flirted. That led to touching and that led to, well, nothing. But Robin didn't know that at the time and none of that mattered now. He'd thought they'd put that all behind them but… Well, the point was, he was done thinking about it.

So his dad's call had come just in time. Noah said that they were starting to think that the pictures of Robin had been faked; that someone wanted them to believe she had gone to Toronto on vacation. Aidan was planning on retracing Robin's steps and was hoping Patrick would help him. He was grateful that Aidan had included him in this fact-finding mission; even though he knew it was just a mercy inclusion and he had a feeling his dad had something to do with it. Patrick had quickly packed an overnight bag and emailed his dad and Anna a list of Robin's contacts that he had compiled last night while fighting insomnia and memories. Then he took one last look around Robin's apartment, locked the door and headed out for his adventure. If this kept up he'd be Adventure Boy to Robin's Adventure Girl in no time.

Aidan picked him up in his Yukon and had driven them into New Hampshire where they showed Robin's picture at the CVS she had allegedly stopped in and then moved on to the Wayfarer Inn where she had spent the night. No one remembered seeing her. They finally got a potential lead at the Manchester International Airport. Based on the time and date Sean's WSB contacts had placed Robin at the counter, American Airlines was able to tell them the names of the 4 counter agents who were working that morning. They had questioned three of them, with no luck, but the fourth agent, a Bill Roberts, wasn't due in until 10 the next morning, so they agreed that they would catch up with him on their way home.

Now, they were strapped in and waiting for takeoff. Patrick wondered how he had gotten here. On a plane with a former British Special Forces operative, headed to Toronto to find his, um – Robin.

"What kind of secret agent stuff did you bring with you?"

"Ah, just the usual. Let's just say that you'll be protected should we run into anyone who doesn't want to see us. I also blew up the security photos Sean gave us and brought along a camera to take some surveillance photos and shots of the places where Robin has supposedly been seen. We want to bring back a full picture of what's going on up there and what the environment looks like. You never know where you'll find a break, so the more information we gather the better. I've also got some 'lock loosening devices' should we need to get in somewhere where someone's forgotten to leave the door unlocked for us."

Patrick interrupted. "A lock pick set? Anyone in your family use keys?"

"Oh, and some left over truth serum from my dear ex-Uncle David."

"I'm sorry, did you just say truth serum?"

"Yeah." Aidan flipped through the in flight magazine.

Patrick pursed his lips and nodded. Truth serum. Of course. He looked out the window and closed his eyes. What the hell had he gotten himself into?

* * *

After quickly making their way through the Toronto airport with Robin's photo (to no avail), they headed right to Yonge Street, where Sean's WSB contacts had placed Robin the day before. They decided to start at the Banana Republic.

At least, Patrick thought, he'd had the good sense to call the women's section – he'd yelled it out like a ten year old calling shotgun. He looked over at the other side of the store and grinned at Aidan in the men's section interviewing a bunch of Ryan Seacrest look-alikes. He didn't look happy. There was some good news though – it looked like sweater vests were making a comeback.

Patrick sighed. He certainly wasn't having much luck in his first try at interrogation. He'd spoken with Lizzie, Amber and Jessica, three high school-aged sales clerks and hadn't gotten much more out of them than giggling. Every time he smiled, the one named Amber blushed and grabbed Jessica's arm. He still didn't understand high school girls. Now, he was stuck listening to a conversation about how they hadn't seen Robin, but she looked an awful lot like Kelly, who apparently was dating Danny. "He's like, the hottest guy in school," Lizzie said.

Patrick tuned out the conversation and looked around, spotting one last clerk he hadn't spoken with. She was standing behind the cash register staring at him. She was tall and blonde and, even better, looked to be in her mid-twenties. He smiled at the girls. "If you'll excuse me, ladies. It's been a pleasure." He fixed one last smile on Amber and swore he heard her whisper, "He's so much hotter than Danny!"

He strode over to the blonde behind the counter and put on his most devastating smile. _'Time to turn on the charm Drake,' _he thought. "Hi there?" His voice trailed off.

"Heather."

"Hi Heather, I'm Patrick. I'm wondering if you might have seen this woman?" He held out the picture, letting their hands graze.

"Hmmm. I may have seen her," the blonde looked up at him and flashed him a nervous smile. "So who is she?" She nodded towards the picture. "She your girlfriend? You have a fight?"

Patrick smiled, but his eyes clouded over and he looked down. "Nah, she's just my friend's cousin." His heart ached, but he flashed Heather another million watt smile. "They have a family situation they need to take care of."

"Oh. Okay, let me see that picture again." She glanced at it quickly. "Yeah, I remember her. She tried on a few sundresses and bought some capris and these really cute sandals we just got in. Oh, and she opened a Banana Republic account. I remember because she was my tenth account that day, and we get a bonus for every ten accounts we open." Her eyes darted around the room; looking at everything but him. Patrick wasn't used to a woman not totally focused on him. Well, not unless you counted Robin when she was in the middle of a Carly related meltdown. Something here wasn't right.

Patrick tried to keep his emotions off of his face, but he didn't know how successful he was. "You sure it was her? Take another look."

"Oh, yeah, definitely. We talked for a while. She told me it was her first time in Toronto and she was really enjoying herself. Said she had come up here to take a break. Relax a bit. De-stress." Heather looked at him closely. "You ok?"

Patrick looked down and stammered. "What? Yeah."

"Mate, you ready to move on?" Aidan, flustered, came up behind Patrick, a young male clerk dressed head to toe in Banana Republic for Men chic staring at him with a starry look in his eyes.

"Aidan, Heather here remembers your cousin."

"I hope everything's okay? I mean, she seemed fine when I talked to her."

Aidan pulled Heather aside and asked her a few questions, but Patrick didn't hear a word. His mind was moving a mile a minute. It was impossible, she had to be wrong. Patrick stared at her. Something was off. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew she wasn't telling him the whole truth.

Aidan handed her a card. "We'll be staying at the W tonight if you can think of anything else. Thank you. You've been really helpful. Patrick, I think we should get going."

"Sure," Patrick turned to the girl and smiled tightly. "Thank you, Heather."

"You bet," she sighed softly, watching Patrick and Aidan walk out the door and into the bright sunshine.

"Well, that was interesting."

Patrick walked ahead and then stopped, turned around and walked back to Aidan, hands on his hips. "Aidan, you don't know me very well."

"No I don't."

"But trust me. I know women. I'm an expert. And that one?" he pointed his thumb over his shoulder. "That one is hiding something. You know, she hardly even looked at the picture, yet she was so sure she had seen Robin. And the details she remembered. Who has a memory like that? It was weird, right?" He was pacing now. "She didn't even look twice at me. Aidan, she's gotta be hiding something – we should use that truth serum on her."

Aidan laughed. "Mate, you can't use truth serum on everyone who tells you something you don't want to hear or who doesn't fall prey to your charms. That's not a crime. It's probably good common sense."

"Something's not right, Aidan."

"Listen, let's finish following Robin's path and see what else we find. We can always come back and question Heather again tomorrow based on whatever we uncover."

Patrick nodded and followed Aidan. Yonge and the surrounding side streets were a shopper's paradise, but for Aidan and Patrick they just saw dozens of boutiques and cafés that they needed to canvas. They slowly and methodically made their way through the area, but no one else remembered seeing Robin. After two more hours of showing Robin's picture, taking pictures, and getting nowhere, Aidan suddenly stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. "You hungry, 'cause I'm bloody starving."

"Yeah, okay. Let's grab something." Patrick looked down the street and noticed a French bistro. "There. If Robin was here she definitely would have stopped in there. Let's see if anyone's seen her and we can get some lunch." Patrick practically sprinted to the door.

Like everyone else on Yonge Street, except for Heather, no one at Le Petit Jardin remembered seeing Robin. Patrick was torn. On the one hand, he was convinced that the more no one had seen Robin, the more likely it was that Heather was lying and they may actually have their first real clue: Heather. On the other hand, if Robin really had come up here for a vacation, that would mean she was safe. Most likely running away from him, but safe.

The two men took a corner booth and flipped through their menus, looking up only to order two beers. Finally, Aidan put aside his menu and looked at Patrick. "You okay?"

Patrick concentrated hard on his menu, trying to sound nonchalant. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

Aidan studied him and finally nodded. "Okay," he said quietly, but dubiously.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes until their waitress placed their beers in front of them and took their order. Aidan raised his glass. "To my cousin and bringing her home."

Patrick raised his glass and nodded once, drinking a quick swig. He felt lightheaded and sweaty all of a sudden and his throat was tight, making it difficult to swallow. He needed to get out. Move around. "Would you excuse me?" He pushed his chair away from the table and headed to the men's room. Relieved that there was no one else in there he made his way over to the mirror and leaned over the sink, pausing to look at his reflection. He turned on the faucet, running his hands through the cold tap and splashed his face with the water. Patrick wasn't used to feeling like this. Useless. Again he wondered what he was doing – how in the world did he think he was helping? Thinking back on the group at Noah's, he thought about what everyone brought to the table. Anna: spy. Aidan: special forces operative. Sean: former spy. Hell, even his dad was providing the location to work out of and was feeding them. What was his purpose? If one of them developed a subdermal hematoma he could operate, but here, out of his element, he provided no value. Whirling around suddenly, he took out his frustration on the stall door, slamming it violently. "Dammit!"

"Patrick?"

Patrick froze when he heard Aidan's voice.

"You want to talk about it?"

"I'm fine." Patrick kept his head down, staring at his shoes.

Aidan walked over to him slowly, stopping short. "Listen, I know this is hard. And I know it seems like we aren't making any progress, but this is important work we're doing. It's bringing us one step closer to Robin. You have to believe that."

Patrick let out a big sigh and ran his hands through his hair. "Yeah. I guess I'll have to trust you on that because right now I feel like we're running in place and every second that goes by Robin gets further and further away from us." His voice lowered and Aidan had to strain to hear what came next. "I can't help thinking, what if I hadn't gotten that emergency page? I might have been there with her. Maybe together we could have stopped whoever took her – if anyone took her. God! I don't know what to think. I just wish I had done something different. That day or any one of a dozen other days. Maybe none of this would be happening."

Aidan looked at him thoughtfully for a minute, silent. "You know, I couldn't believe it when Robin told me you two were dating. I asked her when you had stopped being this shallow arrogant jerk that her cool cousin Aidan had offered to 'take care of' many, many, many times before."

"Wow, thanks. In the words of your people, bugger off."

Aidan laughed. "She told me it was a gradual thing, but it started when you took care of her during the epidemic. Every time she woke up you were sitting by her bedside. And then you invited yourself along to the Maarkham Islands to help her find her father. She felt safe with you, Patrick. Listen, I know you would take care of my cousin. If it was in your control." Aidan stared at him, willing him to listen carefully to his next statement. "Patrick, this, whatever this is, was not in your control. This isn't your fault. No one blames you. I don't blame you, and Anna certainly doesn't blame you, and Sean – well, the jury's still out on what exactly to make of Sean, but the point is, you need to stop blaming yourself."

Patrick swallowed hard, crossed his arms and nodded. "Okay."

"Now, can we please eat lunch before I gnaw my arm off?"

* * *

After lunch they made their way through the rest of the shops, ending at the ATM Robin had used only 24 hours ago. While Aidan went inside to question the bankers, Patrick took snapshots of the ATM, the bank facade, the drive-through window, and some shots with his back to the ATM of the park across the street. There was a giant sculpture there that he immediately knew Robin would love, so he took a picture of that too. He'd show it to her when she came home, and she could tell him what a good detective he made, taking pictures of sculptures he thought she'd like and interrogating high school girls. And then he'd kiss her silly and make her promise he'd never have to go searching for her kidnapped ass again.

* * *

Patrick lay on the hotel bed, staring at the ceiling. Aidan had dropped him off at the W before heading to a meeting with a contact Anna had set up for him. When Patrick suggested he come along and help, Aidan shook his head. "No, Mate, I need to do this by myself. This isn't exactly a stellar member of society I'm dealing with, and if he thinks I'm not alone he'll get spooked."

This day, hell this whole week, had been unbearable. He needed to get out. Forget about life for a while. He pulled himself off the bed, grabbed his card key and strode out the door. Enough of this feeling sorry for himself. Enough of this lingering doubt. Patrick didn't normally have an inner critic, and when that voice did deign to make an appearance, he usually just dismissed it. Time to do that again.

The W had one of the best hotel bars he had ever been in and gorgeous women lined the place. Patrick smiled. This was exactly what he needed. He took a seat at the bar and looked around him. Where to start?

"What are you drinking?" A gorgeous brunette to his right broke into his thoughts.

"Jack and water. Thanks." He gave her his smile. The one that always worked. Apparently, women were suckers for a dimple.

The woman smiled. "You have a great smile."

_'Bingo,'_ he thought. "Thanks, so do you."

The woman laughed and got up off her chair to move to the one right next to him. She tossed her hair as she climbed onto the barstool. "I'm Angela. Angela Dennis."

This was too easy. "Patrick. _Doctor_ Patrick Drake."

"Ooh. A doctor." She licked her lips and leaned over the bar towards him, giving him a great view of her surgically enhanced cleavage. The only thing she didn't do was bat her eyelashes. "So, _Doctor_ Patrick. You're not from around here are you? You don't have an accent. And you haven't said 'eh' yet."

Patrick laughed and played with his glass. "No, I'm not from here. Visiting from upstate New York."

" New York, huh? You here on business or pleasure?"

Patrick took a drink. He didn't quite know how to answer that. "Business."

"Me too." She looked up at him and tilted her head, smiling seductively. "But I'd really like to find a way to work in some pleasure while I'm here."

Patrick let out a quick laugh and gave her a knowing smile, looking her up and down appreciatively. "Well, then, let me buy you another drink."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

**

* * *

**_Epiphany enjoyed her lunch today. She says you can never go wrong with chili from Kelly's. I think if I had won the pool I would have gotten something a little fancier, although the corn bread is to die for. Even better than my favorite chocolate croissant in Paris. You would have thought I would have won the pool having been a keen observer and victim of Patrick's "flirting," as well as his, hmm, I'm not sure what to call myself. Sex partner? Seems too cold and demeaning. Lover, seems too intimate and emotional. Sex-crazed colleague? Great, now I'm starting to sound like Patrick in my own journal. Speaking of whom…Liz, Epiphany and I were laughing the other day about Patrick's pathetic and, Liz says frantic, flirting around the hospital these days (they both know we're sleeping together, which can only mean everyone knows but I can't even go there in my head). He had just tried to flirt with some new candy striper and she almost burst into tears, which made all of us almost keel over in laughter and somehow we decided to start a pool and take count of how many times Patrick flirts over a period of 7 days. None of us counted into the tally, which didn't stop any of us from trying to cheat and set Patrick up with opportunities to flirt (as if he needs help with that). Frankly, the hilarity of the competition eased, and I'll only admit it here, the jealousy that sometimes hits me when Patrick is particularly interested in someone else – feelings I know I shouldn't have, but I guess are natural when you are being physically intimate with someone. Natural for me, anyway. Quite a few times we caught Patrick looking at us suspiciously since we were usually giggling when he was around or lurking around the hospital spying on him. In the end, Epiphany won using the "Price is Right" method – the closest without going over. Sad to say I underestimated his ability to work flirt into his work day. Liz over estimated. Epiphany was almost right – 137. Amazing. Next, we're going to bet on how many times he can wear that sweater vest in a month. Like almost anything it's hot on him but makes him look like he's trying a bit too hard with his appearance, which never ceases to amuse me.

* * *

_  
"I'd really like to find a way to work in some pleasure while I'm here."

"Well then. Let me buy you another drink."

Angela Dennis was just what Patrick needed tonight. She was fun, flirty, and looking for someone just like him. A quick, no strings attached fuck. His specialty.

His first mistake was not pulling her off the barstool and taking her into the bathroom right then and there. His second mistake was thinking about taking her into the bathroom. Robin. That night at The Kells. "Shit."

"What?"

"Nothing. Go on." Patrick put a forced smile on his face and laughed at her anecdote. He couldn't believe it. For the first time in his life, he had no interest in a sure thing. _'Dammit Robin, you have ruined me,'_ he thought. He heard Angela talking about her latest PR success and nodded his head, hoping she thought he was paying attention. _'What am I doing here? I should just get up and –'_

Suddenly, he looked up, silently scanning the crowd when suddenly he saw her. Robin, smiling at him, weaving in and out of the crowd in slow motion, wearing that gorgeous red dress he loved. He followed her with his eyes, saw her laughing, her eyes sparkling and staring back at him. She stepped behind a pillar and he lost sight of her, so he slid off his stool and craned his neck. And there she was – Heather from Banana Republic. "What the-" Patrick whispered.

"I'm sorry?"

"Angela, I've got to run. I see someone I know." Distractedly, Patrick made his way over and stopped in front of her. "Heather, what are you doing here?"

"I don't really know." She looked around nervously. "Can we talk?"

"Sure." He steered her over to a corner booth in the back of the bar and flagged down a cocktail waitress. "What can I get you?"

"Oh, nothing."

"No, no I insist." Patrick looked over and smiled at her, willing her to be comfortable. If Aidan wasn't going to let him play with the truth serum, he'd improvise with his own - colorful, fruity girly drinks with paper umbrellas. "You've got to try their strawberry daiquiris. They are decadent."

Heather gave a tentative smile and nodded. "Okay, you talked me into it."

"Excellent." He looked at the waitress. "Two of those please."

Two strawberry daiquiris, one pina colada and a midori sour later, Heather was finally loosened up and ready to talk.

"You're so nice, Patrick."

"Well, it's easy to be nice to a beautiful woman."

She clucked her tongue and swatted at his arm, laughing, and then turned serious. "You shouldn't be nice to me. I did a horrible thing."

_'Now we're getting somewhere,'_ Patrick thought. "Heather, I don't think you could ever do anything horrible."

"No, no, I did. I lied to you. I never saw that girl."

Patrick felt a chill go up his spine. "You never saw Robin? Why did you tell us that you did?"

Heather started crying, big fat tears rolling down her cheeks. "They gave me a lot of money to tell you this story and it didn't seem like a big deal. I really need the money – do you know how much I make at the store? It's not nearly enough to live on, and I want to go back to school. I don't want to work in retail all my life. And, and," she was sobbing so hard she struggled to take a breath. "It didn't seem like it would hurt anybody, so I did it. But then I saw your face." She stopped sobbing and rubbed away the tears. "She's your girlfriend, isn't she?"

Patrick stared at her a moment before nodding yes.

"You really care about her." Patrick was looking at his hands. Heather didn't wait for a response before she continued. "I don't know where Robin is, but I just couldn't stay quiet in case she's in trouble. I couldn't live with myself."

"Thank you, Heather."

"Oh God."

"What? Are you okay?" _Huh, it's true, people really can turn green,'_ Patrick thought.

"I think I'm gonna be sick." She sprang up from her chair and ran to the ladies room.

Patrick stared after her and then turned his attention back to the table. _'Well that was an interesting string of events,'_ he thought. What the heck it all meant he didn't know. Who were the "they" who had paid off Heather? Why did they want them all to believe Robin was in Toronto? There were a million questions, but he did know one thing. He had been right about Heather the whole time, and he planned on rubbing this little detail in Super Spy Aidan's nose all night. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the Brit.

"Voicemail. Of course. Hey Aidan, it's Patrick. Listen, I'm at the hotel bar and I've just finished talking with Heather from Banana Republic. I was right. She lied to us and she just admitted it to me. What do I do next? Do we take her in for questioning, or do they only do that on NYPD Blue? Call me." He flipped the phone shut and looked around the room. Maybe he should check on her. It was his fault after all, that she was puking her guts out. "Dear, sweet, Heather. Never mix your alcohols." He got up and walked over to the ladies room, knocking on the door. "Heather?" No answer. He knocked louder. "Anyone in there?" Still no answer. Looking around, he slowly pushed the door in and peeked inside. It was empty. "Shit." He lost her.

* * *

It had been a long 24 hours. When Aidan had returned that night, Patrick had debriefed him on what he had uncovered and then they had gone to work trying to find Heather. Using employment records, Patrick did not want to know how he had gotten those at 3am, they found her last name – Carmichael - and her address. She wasn't there. The next day they stopped by _Banana Republic_ and were told that she hadn't shown up for her morning shift and no one had heard from her. Heather Carmichael had vanished into thin air.

On the plane ride home, Aidan briefed him on what Anna's contact had discovered - that there were rumors underground that the WSB had grabbed a woman. He couldn't tell him her name, just that she was small – petite – and feisty.

"Robin."

"Could be. Only caveat is rumor has it she was snatched in Rome."

"Rome? How the hell did Robin get to Rome?"

"I don't know. This could have nothing to do with my cousin."

_'It's got to be linked,'_ Patrick thought. He looked over at Aidan and he could see that Aidan was thinking the same thing.

Upon touching down at Manchester International Airport they were leveled with more bad news. The final American Airlines counter agent, Bill Roberts was missing as well. He had never returned after leaving to pick up dinner for his family the night before. His wife had called in a missing persons report hours earlier.

On the drive back to Port Charles, Aidan called his PI partner back in Pine Valley, Tad Martin, to put out some feelers and start searching for Heather and Bill. When he got off the phone he looked over at Patrick. "I'm taking you to Robin's?"

"Yeah." Patrick had been quiet on the drive home. He didn't know what to make of all the information swirling around in his head, and he was relieved when they finally pulled up outside of Robin's building.

"You did good, Mate."

"I let Heather get away."

"Rookie mistake. Happens to us all. Don't worry, we'll find her." Aidan pulled away from the curb and left Patrick standing on the sidewalk, alone, staring at the retreating Yukon. He sighed, looked up at Robin's building and then entered and slowly walked up the stairs.

They had agreed to shower and change and meet back at Noah's. Aidan had some more phone calls to make and Patrick agreed to print out the photos they had taken on Robin's photo printer. She had invested in a good one – the girl loved to take pictures. He hadn't posed for so many pictures in his life as he had since he and Robin had begun dating. Apparently, everything had to be immortalized.

He made his way into her office, dropping his bags on the floor and settling into her desk chair, firing up the computer. He figured he should check her email first. "Scorpio, you need a better junk filter. 47 new emails, 30 for Viagra, 10 for that other blue pill." He shook his head and hit delete. "Well, you certainly don't need those." He opened up each of the other seven, one by one, skimming the contents and hitting print. He'd take them with him, see if Anna or Aidan could find anything interesting. She had a couple of jokes forwarded to her from friends in Paris – at least he thought they were jokes. His French wasn't very good. There were a couple of bill pay reminders and another email from Dr. Laurent, the author of that New England Journal of Medicine article. He put that pile aside and pulled out the camera memory card, plugging it into the printer. He set the controls so that each picture printed out at 8x10, grabbed a stack of photo paper and hit print. The slow chugging of the printer at work made him antsy. He looked through the camera bag and pulled out the blown up picture of Robin at the ATM. He lovingly traced her outline, blowing out a breath. The printer continued to work hard, spitting out its first image: the sculpture he photographed for her across from the Scotia Bank. He picked it up and looked at it. Suddenly, something snapped in his brain. He grabbed the picture of Robin at the bank and put it side by side with the picture of the sculpture. "How did I not notice this before?"

Patrick leaped up from the chair, grabbing at the email printouts and the photos that had printed so far, stuffing them into the camera bag. He slung the bag over his shoulder, grabbed his keys and ran out the door, leaving the printer on to print out the remaining photos unattended. He sprinted to his car, knowing that he needed to get to Noah's immediately. In the picture of Robin at the ATM that Donely had given them, the sculpture, that should have been right behind her, was nowhere to be found.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

**

* * *

**

_I thought Patrick had made a $100 bet to nail the girl with HIV. He set me up so I set him up in return, which I didn't think he'd really care about. Except, I was very, dreadfully and completely wrong, which meant that I hurt someone who did not deserve it. Although, hurt might be overstating it. I'm fairly certain that Patrick doesn't care all that much what I or anyone else thinks of him. Other than his father, not that he'd even admit to even that. _

_I was speechless when I realized I was wrong and I gathered my tattered pride and went to try and make it right. I found him at Jake's. With Carly. The ultimate in ironies. The only thing missing was the fact that Carly knows Patrick's name and Patrick doesn't have brain damage. That I know of. But I girded up and went over to apologize, which he made me do in front of her and Coleman. And I did it because I genuinely owed him an apology. But his attitude and the fact that he made me do it in front of her really hurt. Even though he probably does not know the history, he's seen enough of Carly's behavior towards me since he came to town to know how humiliating that had to be for me and will continue to be because she's probably going to throw it in my face for the rest of our lives. _

_I still don't know if he ever really wanted to sleep with me. After all, I am HIV+ and that's not exactly first or last on the list of qualities one looks for in bed partners. But I finally got what I've been asking for, for him to stop his version of flirting and for us to be solely professional colleagues. _

_But I am certain of one thing. Things are not always what they appear and before I jump to conclusions in the future I should ask questions. _

_Postscript: You know I'm kind of sad I ruined things with Patrick. I really must need to get some sleep. And make sure to talk to Alan more rationally tomorrow about instituting that no-dating policy. Among doctors. I think Patrick would die if he couldn't date the nurses.

* * *

_

"Sorry I'm late." Noah rushed into his apartment. He was still dressed in his blue scrubs and had a leather overnight bag over his shoulder and a pile of papers in his hands.

Patrick and Aidan sat on either side of the brown leather couch facing Anna who stood on the other side of the living room seating area in front of a large white board on an easel and a dry-erase maker in her hand. "We're just starting." She had divided the board into three main parts and had put labels on top of each column – 'fact' – 'verify' – 'interpret.'

Noah dropped his bag behind the couch and strode over to Anna. He leaned in for a moment and then seemed to remember himself and thrust the papers at Anna who took them, a smirk on her face. Their hands touched for a moment before Noah pulled back and ran his fingers through his hair and glanced at his son and then at Aidan. Patrick just looked impatient, but Aidan's eyebrows were raised. Noah licked his lips and went to sit down on one of the matching leather chairs. Anna glanced at the papers and nodded approvingly before putting them down on the coffee table.

"Sean is not joining us?" Noah asked.

"No…" Aidan started to explain.

"The guy's a liar." Patrick's voice cut through the living room. "I may not be a trained investigator but even I can see that."

"Let's get down to working out what we know," Anna said smoothly and then she began reciting the facts known about Robin's activities over the day before and the day of her disappearance. "Noah, could you take notes?" she looked over at the neurosurgeon.

Noah held up a pad and paper and she nodded thankfully and continued.

"The last time she was seen by Patrick was 6:55 a.m." She wrote this on the board and then put a check mark in the verify column. "According to Mac's sweep a neighbor saw her leave at 8:30 a.m. alone and with an overnight bag, which was before Patrick's call at 10:20 a.m." She put check mark next to Patrick's call and only an "x" next to the neighbor's sighting. "The neighbor's sighting is not considered reliable yet. We can assume that she left around this time and in her car, but we cannot assume she was alone."

"Even though all prints in Robin's apartment are accounted for?" Noah asked.

"Gloves. Just like could apply to the car. So nothing related to fingerprints is considered verifiable, we can only interpret," Anna said.

"She might have gotten into her car and driven around the corner or outside of town and then someone else drove it to New Hampshire. A tow would have probably attracted too much attention," Aidan said.

"We have no reason to believe that Robin was upset and ran on her own, notwithstanding Patrick's confession about his typical guy freeze on being given a key." Anna put "happy" under facts.

Patrick's stomach still sank at the thought, but he brushed the feeling aside, determined to follow the lead of the other players in the room.

"If Robin was going to run off on some last minute vacation she would have called in at work, which we now know she did, but the message got lost by Alan's temporary assistant for over a day. She would have called me, which she did not. And she would have called Brenda. Brenda, according to her office, is off on some romantic fling and hasn't been seen or heard from since Friday night. She could be with Robin now." She wrote those down, as did Noah.

"I still have not been able to find Robert. According to the Quartermaines he left town last Tuesday, almost a week before Robin disappeared. He was supposed to work this weekend on the Haunted Star. Tracy, of course, is livid."

"New Hampshire sightings – nothing verified. In fact, one possible witness is missing. Could be connected, could be coincidence. We're running a background check on Bill Roberts. Nothing has turned up so far, but I'm having certain contacts go deeper."

"Now, on to the interesting facts. None of the witnesses in Toronto check out and, in fact, one of them told Patrick she was paid to tell the same story Sean told us. Now, she's missing too."

Patrick squirmed in his seat, still feeling the sting of letting the girl leave and possibly putting her in danger.

"Basically, we have nothing verified beyond when Robin left her apartment and where her car ended up?" Noah said.

"Actually, we know for certain that some of the information Sean Donely gave us is fake. Show Noah the picture," Aidan prompted Patrick.

"Here." Patrick stood up and handed the photo he had printed out to his dad and then the photo Sean brought them of Robin at the ATM machine.

"What am I looking at?" Noah looked between the photos.

"The sculpture." Patrick handed him another photo. "It's not there in this picture of Robin."

"You figured this out?" Noah looked up at his son who nodded and sat back down. "Good job. So, Sean's story is bullshit."

"Succinctly put. Let's fill Aidan and Patrick in on what we've been doing over the past few days." Anna and Noah shared a brief look as Noah leaned forward and picked up the papers he had brought with him. She leaned in at the same time and picked up his note pad and pen and handed it to Patrick. He took it, glad to have something to keep his hands busy. "Make it legible, Doc," Anna told him.

"I put together a list of all the patients Robin has treated since she came to General Hospital." Patrick looked at his father proudly, knowing the risk he took getting that information. "Anna and I culled through the list based on certain criteria we developed – illness, outcome, age, family. We narrowed the list down and had Aidan's partner Tad Martin run some basic background on the list, which narrowed it down further."

"Noah has spent the last forty-eight hours meeting with the patients and or their families. I sat in on some of the meetings as his nurse."

"The one consistent thing we found is that everyone loves Dr. Scorpio. Even when the patient didn't make it or the result from her treatment wasn't all they hoped or they required surgery, everyone loved her."

"Basically, no red flags there." Anna made notations on the board.

"So, I decided to go back further, which is why I'm late. Let me tell you, high school French was a long time ago. Turns out Dr. Scorpio was practically black-balled in France because of a run-in with a hot shot neurosurgeon named Dr. Henri Carroux."

Patrick's head snapped up and he stopped writing.

"He didn't follow her advice on the stability of a patient and the patient died on the table. Dr. Scorpio put that in her report and because it had happened before his surgical credentials were yanked pending investigation. He in turn had his father yank Robin's funding and effectively black-balled her. The family is big money and, how did she put it, don't mind playing dirty."

"Is that enough of a motive?" Aidan asked.

"According to the young nurse I spoke to rumor has it that he offered to get her funding restored if she'd sleep with him."

Patrick muttered an oath, both at Henri and himself.

"Jilted suitor, money, career in jeopardy, possibly cultural tradition to get revenge," Anna ticked off.

"He got his license back, but had to get a job at another hospital. It's worth looking into," Noah said.

"We'll run him." She wrote it on the board.

"I got the nurse to fax me a list of Robin's patients. That's what this is."

"I guess charm trumps rusty French." Anna raised an eyebrow at him before turning back to the board to note that new avenue to look down.

Noah smirked at her before his expression turned serious. "There's something else." He waited until Anna was facing him again. "I also went through Patrick's list and found that this Dr. Laurent Robin was working with is." He stopped and cleared his throat. "She's dead. A few weeks ago, suspicious circumstances in Paris."

Patrick looked down, frowned and licked his bottom lip. "That's really interesting." He looked back up and at Anna. "Because Robin got an email from her just yesterday."

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

**

* * *

**_I can't believe I heard from Renee today, it was so out of the blue. Dr. Laurent and I were collaborating on a new compound together until slimy Henri ruined it all because of his ego and his libido. Really, how often do men really resort to blackmail to get a woman to go out with them? Especially an HIV+ woman? Anyway, Renee found another source of funds to continue the project and contacted me to see if I was still interested in working on it with her. I don't really want to go back to Paris or to Geneva where she is, I like the life I have here, but I agreed to work on it with her long distance. I have to admit, I'd been spending so much time at GH treating patients, and not just in neurology, that I had forgotten how much I love development work.

* * *

_  
"I didn't think it would take you this long."

Aidan put an arm out in front of Patrick who was about to charge the older WSB agent in response to his mocking comment.

"What the hell is going on, Sean?" Anna's voice was curt in fury, her fist was clenched. Noah, standing on the side of her, moved closer.

Sean stood in the center, in front of the white board which Aidan had methodically read through for Sean down to the conclusion that his story was a lie.

"What's going on is you're all wasting your time looking for someone who doesn't want to be found. Probably thanks to that lounge lizard over there." Sean motioned towards Patrick.

"I knew you would want to spin this into being my lie, but I assumed that would have happened on day one."

Patrick made a move towards Sean and Aidan moved to block him.

"And what proof of that do you have to give us this time?" Noah asked as he glanced between the two most volatile members of their group – Anna and Patrick.

"Explain the ATM picture! Explain Dr. Laurent!" Patrick demanded.

"I'm just as surprised as you are to hear she emailed Robin after her own death. I should take a look at all the emails and have my people trace back the header information."

"We can handle that just fine, mate," Aidan said dryly.

"I only want to help." Sean spread his hands out to show his innocence.

"Explain the ATM photo!" Patrick demanded again.

"ATM cameras are not designed to pick up backgrounds, only ATM activity. Crappy quality is to be expected."

"That's your explanation. Crappy equipment? Please!" Patrick lunged past Aidan and grabbed Sean by the lapels of his jacket. "Where the hell is Robin?"

"I'd suggest you let go, Dr. Drake. I do carry a gun."

"I'll let go when Robin is delivered to us safe and sound!" Patrick growled.

"This isn't helping anything, Son. Let him go." Noah put his hand on Patrick's shoulder. "But if you don't tell us what we need to know I'll help him. Gun or no gun." Patrick let his father pull him back, but his face was still red and he vibrated with rage.

"You've found yourself quite a hero here, Anna. But you always do inspire that in men. I see your daughter inherited your talents. I'm not surprised." Sean straightened his jacket. "I love Robin like she's my own daughter. It's not surprising no one sighted her in New Hampshire or Toronto; she is a Scorpio and a Devane. If she doesn't want to be spotted she knows how to blend in."

"Explain Heather Carmicheal's story? And her disappearance," Aidan demanded.

"To the best of my knowledge Heather Carmichael left the bar with some Dutch tourist and holed up with him for a couple of days in his hotel room. As for her story, she was probably lying to get you to take her to your room first or you just got her so drunk she didn't know what she was saying. I do applaud your faithfulness to Robin, Drake. I'm sure she'll be pleased to hear it, if she still cares when she gets back." Sean's voice related the information as if it was obvious, matter-of-fact.

"You son of a…" Patrick lunged forward again, but a sharp look from Anna brought him back. He turned around and took a deep breath and ran his hands over his face. He was going to kill this guy, he knew he was lying.

"And the airport clerk, Bill Roberts?"

"I'm sure you know that the guy has big gambling debts." Sean shrugged.

"Where is she, Sean? Where's Robin?" Anna demanded, her voice finally betraying her anguish.

Sean's expression softened as he looked at Anna. He hesitated a moment and then reached into his jacket and pulled out some snapshots. Anna grabbed them from his hand.

"What?" Patrick demanded.

"These are photos of Robin with Brenda sitting by a pool. Enjoying dinner and laughing together. Talking with." She glanced at Patrick. "Attractive men in a bar." She handed the photos to Patrick who took them with shaky hands.

"Why should we believe these are any more real than the other photos?"

"All the photos are real. You want to believe that Robin wouldn't run off without a word, except she hasn't. She told work and she told Brenda. How well do any of you really know Robin Scorpio?"

"He's still lying," Aidan said after Anna closed the door behind Sean.

"Of course he is," Patrick chimed in from where he sat on the couch.

"All these missing people are concerning. And Dr. Laurent," Noah said.

"Agreed," Anna said. She crossed her arms and began pacing. "We sent the incomplete paper and the finished article Patrick found to my sister Alex and to my ex, he's a bit of chemist," she informed the Drake men.

"An evil one," Aidan remarked under his breath as he walked out of the kitchen with bottles of water in his hand. Noah stepped forward and took the bottles and began to hand them out. All the while he kept his eye on Anna's pacing.

"Could you make heads or tails of it, Patrick?" Noah asked.

"I know biology. Just looks like a concoction intended to mitigate the effects of traumatic brain injuries." Patrick shrugged.

"We also have the story from my contact about the woman grabbed in Rome. It might not be Robin, but it's worth checking out," Aidan said. "And we can look for Brenda, too."

"Agreed. We should go to Rome," Anna said. "Can you two get away?" she asked Patrick and Noah.

"We can make arrangements. Patrick's surgical schedule is already cleared. I can have Dr. Michaels and some doctors from Mercy cover."

Before Anna could answer her cell phone rang. "Alex? Really?" Anna turned and looked at everyone. She listened for another few minutes. "I'm coming right to you. Do you have guards? Can you trust them? Okay, we'll be there." Anna clicked off her phone.

"Change of plans. I'm going to Hungary."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

* * *

_Men look at my mother all the time, but other than engaging in some pretty precision flirtation she just doesn't seem interested. We talked about it once when we were living together in Paris and she told me that her heart just felt too full already. I think maybe it just felt too broken because it wasn't that long ago that she had lost my sister Leora and David. I can't even imagine what it must be like to lose a child and my mother has already lost two counting the miscarriage she had with Duke. It scares me sometimes when I think about my HIV and the fact that she could lose me, too._

* * *

"And you say she looks just like you?" Noah asked with a grin. They were walking towards the front door of Vadzel castle, Anna's sister Alex's home with her husband Dimitri in Budapest, Hungary. It was, as expected, a rather large Baroque structure.

"That's what identical twin usually means, Doctor." Anna gave Noah a sidelong glance.

"I'm just thinking how lucky I am to have two such beautiful women to look at."

"Look, don't touch. I'm armed."

Noah put his hands up and laughed. "The other players are Dimitri Marick, Alex's husband, who like everyone else you know was once believed dead and your half-brother Gabriel?"

"Right. Except Gabriel isn't here, he's going to school right now in Switzerland. Dimitri is also away, on business."

"Big place for only three people and staff." Noah looked up at the imposing building. "I can see why Alex would be spooked to be here alone, but the security seems pretty rigorous from what I can tell coming in."

"No amount of security will keep out someone who wants to get in." Anna's voice was grim.

They stopped a few feet from the door and she turned to look at Noah. "I appreciate you coming with me and for caring so much about my daughter. You do understand this could be dangerous for you?"

"We've already covered this, Anna." Noah leaned in closer to her. "I wouldn't have a life if it wasn't for your daughter."

She nodded and looked up at him. "Thank you."

A slow smile spread across his face. "You're welcome. Hey, you know how you can really thank me? Did you pack that nurse's outfit?"

Anna laughed. "Dr. Drake, you are insufferable! How is it in the midst of all this you can make me laugh? It defies logic."

"It's simple. I'm irresistibly charming and I care a great deal about your daughter." Noah leaned over and brushed a stray piece of hair from her cheek and their eyes locked. They stared at each other intently until a clearing throat interrupted.

Noah and Anna sprung apart guiltily and turned to see Alex Devane-Marick standing in the open doorway, a wry grin on her face. Noah did a double-take between the woman he had gotten to know the past almost week and the woman in the doorway, then his face settled into a satisfied grin.

"Sorry to interrupt. Hello Anna. You must be Dr. Drake."

Noah walked forward and held his hands out to Alex. Alex met him halfway and chuckled at the gleam in his eyes. "It's lovely to meet you. Please call me Noah. If you keep calling me Dr. Drake I might think you're talking about my son." Pride infused his voice at the mention of his son.

"Enough of the Drake charm," Anna drawled and moved forward to hug her sister once the other woman was disentangled from Noah. "Tell us what's going on."

* * *

"This is incredible," Noah said for what Anna estimated to be the tenth time in as many minutes. They were sitting in Dimitri's den looking over the analysis Alex had made of the compound that Robin was working on with the believed to be deceased Dr. Renee Laurent.

"The therapeutic impact of this compound on the effects of traumatic brain injury centered in the temporal lobe would be incredible if they got it stable enough." Alex was sitting on the edge of Dimitri's large mahogany desk.

"What you're saying is that it could also be used to over-stimulate the production of serotonin and certain peptides in combination to biofeedback stimuli thereby rerouting certain emotional reactions and associated neuro-pathways to enable someone else to take control of the patient's mind, at least temporarily," Noah continued from his position on the dark, brown tweed sofa. Anna sat next to him looking through Alex's notes.

"And each successive dosage and brainwashing session would result in more and more control lost by the patient," Alex explained. "It looks like the flaw that Dr. Laurent, or whoever was pretending to be her, was trying to solve was the fact that eventually the effected brain would continuously overproduce serotonin and peptides, in turn impacting the standing heart rate, raising blood pressure and all the other effects stress can have on the body, but increased thousands of times. Aneurisms, heart attack, organ failure and inevitably death."

"Making them not very effective drones," Noah said dryly, quirking an eyebrow.

"What you're saying is that this compound can be administered and used to manufacture fear and that can be used to control the subject?" Anna said.

"It's more than fear. It's akin to a phobia or what we call distorted fear. It's irrational panic and the patient would be trained to do whatever it was ordered to ease that fear. I suspect that it's probably countered with the administration of some kind of sedative on the back end, which has a whole host of other side effects. The mind can even be trained to administer its own forms of calming agents. It's possible that the subject wouldn't even remember what they've done. Either because the brain is too over-stimulated and the long-term memory becomes shot or because some engineering or training will go on to induce memory loss. Or both."

"How did Robin not know this?" Anna asked, knowing her daughter would have no part in this.

"Like I said, used alone the premise of the initial compound and the first phase of lab trials showed promise for the therapeutic effects Robin was looking for, but based on my experience with brainwashing, both personal and professional, I recognized that it could also be used this way in manufactured conditions. And given Robin's disappearance and Dr. Laurent's death I decided to delve deeper. I called some people I used to know."

Anna's face tightened at the reminder of what Alex had endured at the hands of her "mother" – being imprisoned in a mental hospital that was really a brainwashing facility for a terrorist organization that wanted to use her as a killing machine. And if her suspicions were true, and Anna had no reason to think they weren't, it was possible that Alex herself was also a target of whoever had Robin or another faction who also wanted this compound. Apparently, the strange occurrences around Alex had started before Robin had disappeared.

"Do you think we're looking at the same thing here?" Noah asked, Anna having filled him in on Alex's history on the long flight over.

"It seems likely," Alex said, her eyes still locked with that of her twin.

"Which means they took Robin to help work out the kinks in the compound that Dr. Laurent couldn't? But there's a good chance they're not using it on her because that…."

"That would kill her." Anna's voice was devoid of emotion. "And if she doesn't solve their problem she won't be of use to them either and they'll kill her like they did Dr. Laurent."

"Anna, I'm afraid that these problems in this compound can't be solved, not even by someone as smart as Robin. There are so many things we don't understand about the body and if you mess with one thing you throw everything off balance. You manipulate serotonin and peptide production for too long the breakdown is inevitable. And if that doesn't kill you the effects of distorted fear of this magnitude will."

"The best she could do is help put off that inevitability," Noah said grimly.

"They'd kill her even if she succeeds," Anna snapped.

"Or…" Noah broke off.

Anna stopped pacing and turned to face Noah. "Say it, Noah," she ordered quietly.

"If she succeeds, they might keep her to work on other projects. The question is how are they getting her to cooperate." Noah rubbed the back of his neck and frowned. "I think she'd try to fake them out as long as she could and when that wouldn't work she'd refuse to cooperate unless they had something over her."

"Something that created a distorted fear in her mind." Alex got off the desk and went to stand next to Noah.

"Or someone." Anna stopped pacing.

"Robert?" Noah asked, watching Anna's reaction closely.

She frowned. "I don't know whether to be relieved she might not be alone or worried that he might be tangled up in this. I still don't know where he is." Anna put her hands on her hips and looked up at the elaborately carved wooden ceiling, thinking.

"What we need to find is this person that sent Robin an email pretending to be Dr. Laurent." Noah cleared his throat.

"Maybe it was Dr. Laurent and that body was a fake?" Alex suggested and looked at Anna.

"Either way there is probably more than one group interested in this compound and in Robin."

"And which group is it that's here in Hungary watching Alex and why?" Noah asked.

"We haven't confirmed that anything is going on," Alex protested.

"I trust your instincts, Sis. What did your contacts," Anna grimaced, "Tell you?"

"Not much, just that there has been talk about a drug of this sort out there and that whoever develops it is going to be rich beyond imagination."

"This is about money?" Noah put his hands on his hips, his face angry.

"It always is, Dr. Drake. It always is," Alex said.

* * *

"I don't know where she is! She's never left anyone else to do this before and if I screw this up she's going to be so pissed!" The dark haired Italian woman who was Brenda's assistant was wringing her hands and looking worse for wear despite the early hour. Marietta Giordani was not happy to have been left alone to manage the boutique's attendance at Paris Fashion Week. Aidan and Patrick shared a look as she twittered on about her worries about being left alone to handle coordinating the buying and schmooze with designers who wanted to see their former model in person.

They were currently standing in the buyer's tent at the Paris fashion shows. Around them servers who could have been – and probably were – models themselves were passing around glasses of champagne. It made Patrick uneasy. He should be here scoping out hot women, instead he found himself wondering if any of these men and women could be spies watching them. He didn't know if his imagination was running wild from a lifetime of watching spy movies or if he was finally adapting to the reality of Robin's life. All he knew was that Anna had explained the importance of Fashion Week and that it was unlikely that Brenda would miss it. All they had gotten was a description of the broker Brenda had left with.

"Wait, where did you say she was?" Patrick demanded when something Marietta said caught his ear.

"She said she was thinking of opening a new boutique in Prague and went with the broker to check out the real estate. She said it couldn't wait until after the Paris show because it was a hot property. But I know she's just taking a vacation because that broker was gorgeous! She's not answering her cell phone and if I screw this up I'm so fired," she said for the umpteenth time.

"Here's my card. If you hear from Brenda give her my number and tell her it's urgent," Aidan said. "Do you understand?"

"_Si._ Yes." She studied the card, her mouse brown hair slipping over her forehead. "You're a private investigator. Do you think she's in trouble do you?"

"We're not sure, that's why it's urgent that you contact us immediately if you hear from her and have her call us, all right?" Aidan said.

"Of course, of course." Aidan caught Patrick's eye and motioned towards the exit with his head. In step, Aidan and Patrick walked out of the tent into the chaos that is the back stage of the Paris fashion show.

"This is a mad house," Aidan muttered.

"A mad house of incredibly beautiful women," Patrick added, more out of habit than because he was really looking. "And incredibly ugly clothes. Where next? The bastard Henri, I hope. I have a lot of tension to work out."

"Let me do the talking, Drake."

* * *

Dr. Henri Carroux had a rough day. He'd lost a patient on the table and had to deliver a death sentence to another patient with an inoperable brain tumor. If he'd been a less confident man he would have worried about that old saying about bad luck coming in threes. But if there was one thing Henri was, it was confident. Perhaps not the best doctor in Paris or even at the tiny private hospital he worked out of, but his father's money and reputation smoothed over any deficiencies he may have held in that area. Confidence he held in spades, and from his vantage point, things were finally looking up tonight. He had a date with one of the staff social workers at St. Sebastian's and she was even more beautiful than the lawyer he'd slept with the night before. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, pleased with what he saw. After running his fingers through his sunny hair he straightened his tie, then grabbed his jacket and walked out the door of his penthouse apartment. He never even saw the man who hit him from behind.

"Patrick!"

Patrick lowered the pewter walking stick he'd gotten in the swag tent at the fashion show and looked at Aidan innocently. "What?"

"I thought we agreed we'd let me handle Henri."

"It slipped."

Aidan rolled his eyes and grabbed Henri under his arms. "Help me drag him back to his apartment."

Patrick slowly walked over to where Aidan was standing with Henri and put his hands under Carroux's armpits as well. "Let go, I've got him. You get us into his place." Aidan let go, making his way quickly to Henri's door. He gave a quick look around and pulled out his lock picking tools, going to work. Patrick dragged Henri the rest of the way to the door, watching Aidan. "You know, your cousin could kick your ass picking a lock." Patrick let go of Henri, letting his head slam against the floor.

The lock clicked and Aidan swung the door open, a satisfied grin on his face. "Drake, try not to break our suspect. Grab his feet." Aidan grabbed Henri's arms again while Patrick took hold of his legs and together they carried him inside, Patrick slamming the door shut with his hip.

"Let's get him in a chair and tie him up."

"Just how many cop shows did you watch growing up, Patrick?"

"What? That's not a good plan? What do you propose we do? Sit him on the couch and make him dinner?"

Aidan sighed. "The chair will be fine, Mate."

Twenty minutes after tying him up, Henri still hadn't woken. Patrick took out a penlight and pried open his eyes, examining his pupils. "He's fine. Just lazy. Wake up asshole." He shook him and clapped his hands next to his ears. Finally, Henri started to rouse. "Great," Patrick smiled. "Here we go."

Henri groaned and slowly opened his eyes, trying to focus. He could make out what looked like a man's head, with a porcupine on top. "_Qui vous est? Que voulez-vous?_"

"English Carroux," Patrick snarled.

"You can take whatever you want. Just please don't hurt me."

"We're not here to rob you. We want some answers, and you're going to provide them. Now-"

"Where the fuck is Robin Scorpio?" Patrick cut off Aidan, advancing on Henri menacingly.

"Patrick!"

"No, Aidan, I'm not going to coddle this guy. He might know where Robin is."

"Robin Scorpio?" Henri looked puzzled. "What are you talking about? I haven't seen Dr. Scorpio in nearly a year."

"Listen, Henri. You are going to answer my questions completely. If you don't, I'll let my friend here have at you."

Henri looked over at Patrick, who shot him an icy glare. He swallowed hard. "I'll tell you whatever you want, but I swear I have no idea where Robin is. I don't understand why you are looking for her here."

"What? Didn't leave on the best of terms, Henri?" Patrick spat the words out. "Is that maybe because you tried to blackmail her into sleeping with you?"

Henri's jaw set and he squirmed in his chair. Patrick walked around the penthouse and started to shake. It looked familiar. Cold, impersonal. It looked like his room at the Metro Court. He looked out the large bay windows and could see the Eiffel Tower in the distance. He wiped his hands across his face. This bastard was the French him. For God's sake he was wearing a sweater vest.

"Listen, Dr. Carroux. Why don't you tell us your version of what happened between you and Robin." Aidan leaned in and stared at him hard.

Patrick, hands on hips, turned back towards them. "I can't wait to hear this."

Henri stared back at Aidan defiantly, and sniffed, shaking his hair out of his eyes. "Fine. Dr. Scorpio was a beautiful woman who needed a little nudge towards living life. A night with me was just what she needed."

Patrick snorted. "So, you were doing her a favor?"

"I thought she'd be grateful. I wanted her even with her HIV."

"You son of a bitch-" Patrick lunged at him, but he was stopped short when Aidan grabbed him from behind. He shrugged off Aidan and started pacing. "Let me get this straight. You flame out spectacularly in the OR after Robin warned you about not performing surgery, you get suspended and you decide to go to daddy so he can yank Robin's funding and you can comfort her and offer a way back to her program being restored."

"That's not exactly how it happened."

"No? Then bloody well enlighten us."

Henri sighed. He looked at his two captors, and then looked down at his feet. "It was a bit of serendipity actually. Someone had come to my father that day offering him a large sum if he would pull Dr. Scorpio's funding. She'd been making amazing strides with her research, which was good for the hospital, but the money was too good to pass up."

"Serendipity?" Patrick laughed.

"Who the hell offered your father money?" Aidan questioned.

"No idea. He never met them. He agreed that Dr. Scorpio's program would be shut down and the money was wired into his account."

* * *

Noah lay in the large four poster bed, bone tired but wide awake. His eyes tried to focus on something, anything, in the dark. He was sure Mattie would have loved this old castle. She was a sucker for all things Medieval and she'd loved horror movies. His sweet, petite, porcelain-skinned beauty loved to be scared, and her motto was the more gore the better. This place brought those two loves together. Describing this mausoleum as creepy would be an understatement.

She'd like Alex and Anna too. He smiled, thinking how much easier it had become to remember Mattie without needing a drink in his hand. He still talked to her all the time – about Patrick mostly – but now that he was sober she didn't answer back. Sometimes he missed her so much he thought about going on just one more bender so he could talk to her again, but then he thought about his son and how much time he'd already wasted. Besides, while he may not be able to have an alcohol fueled hazy conversation with Mattie, in sobriety his memories of her were crystal clear. And that was something.

The handsome doctor pushed back the thick pile of blankets covering him and sat up, placing his bare feet on the cold tiled floor. He sighed and rubbed his face, his five o'clock shadow scratchy to the touch. Maybe if he got some air that would soothe his mind, help him finally find sleep. He quickly threw on a pair of old gray sweatpants and an old long sleeved "Maine is for lovers" t-shirt, laced up his sneakers and set out to find his way outside. A lot easier said than done since the Merrick castle was more like a maze than a home.

He wandered the hallways, past a long line of oil paintings of who he presumed were dead Marick relatives, and somehow ended up in the kitchen where a nice, plump older woman named Helga (the Marick cook) finally pointed him in the right direction. His hand paused on the handle of the French door when he saw the dark haired woman who'd had the same idea he did. He watched her silently stare at the moon while she perched on her toes and then back down again, then mindlessly twisted her ankle around, loosening it up.

"Anna?"

She smiled, glancing over her shoulder. "Good guess."

"What are you doing up so late?"

"I could ask you the same question."

He smiled at her. "Can't sleep. Strange country, strange bed. Gorgeous identical twins sleeping down the hall from me…"

"You are your son's father aren't you?"

He laughed and stopped next to her, leaning against the waist-high stone ledge that surrounded the patio area. "You replaying that conversation with Alex?"

"That and about a million other things." She paused and looked at him. "You know, Robin's birthday is in a few days."

"I didn't know that."

She nodded her head, looking up at the moon. "She didn't know I was her mother until she was seven." Noah looked at her quizzically. "Long story. This was a crazy life to be born into." She jumped up and sat on the ledge, hugging her arms around her. "I'm scared Noah," she whispered. "If it was just me dealing with this insanity I could handle it – but not Robin. I never wanted her anywhere near this life. I'm just scared."

Noah jumped up and sat next to her on the ledge. "So you're a parent. I'm scared for Patrick and he's just at a fashion show."

"I believe you're scared for a whole different reason," Anna quipped.

"My point is, Robin is a strong woman. She's intelligent and tough – she puts up with Patrick, doesn't she? And she was raised by you. She's going to be fine until we can find her and bring her home." Noah's intense gaze made Anna blush and she looked away, pulling her sweater around her tighter. Noah felt a little rush to see he had an effect on her and allowed himself a small smile. "So, what was Robin like as a child?"

"Precocious." Anna laughed. "She was a 40 year old woman in a 7 year old's body. What about Patrick?"

"Spoiled."

"You don't say."

"No, he was a great kid – all Mattie's doing of course. I was always so busy with work. The only reason I had a relationship to screw up with Patrick was because of Mattie. She insisted we should have something just the two of us could share. Some way we could do some father-son bonding, and actually, racing was her idea. I was a New England prep school kid - what did I know about car racing? But Mattie's dad had always loved it and once I had a taste of it with my son I was hooked too."

"Robin and I had dancing."

They smiled at each other and Anna looked away first. Her sweater had loosened a bit, giving Noah a view of the thin white t-shirt underneath. He felt like a frustrated 13 year old, trying to catch a glimpse of anything. He cleared his throat. "Beautiful night." As soon as the words were out of his mouth Noah turned his head away from Anna and rolled his eyes. He used to be so smooth with women. Where the heck did these tired lines come from? How was it that Anna made him feel like a teenager?

"Yeah. Bit chilly."

"You want to head back inside?" Noah jumped off the ledge and offered Anna his hand. She grasped it and jumped down next to him and the two of them stood there, looking at each other and holding hands in the crisp Hungarian night air.

Finally Anna spoke. "We should probably try to get some sleep."

Noah squeezed her hand and they smiled at each other. Then, still grasping her hand, he led her back inside.

* * *

Patrick looked around the small Parisian hotel room and dropped his bag by the door. He let out a long breath he felt like he'd been holding for days now and collapsed on the bed. It had been a long day, filled with models and bastard neurosurgeons, and yet again they were no closer to Robin. Or Brenda for that matter.

He rubbed a hand across his face, thinking, then pulled himself off the bed and walked back over to his bag. He rustled around in it, searching, his hands finally grasping what he was looking for as he pulled out Robin's journal. He wanted to spend the night with her and this was the closest he was going to get tonight.

He started to read an entry about a train crash, then stopped and instinctively flipped to the final entry Robin had made. It was dated October 2nd – the day she disappeared.

_I gave Patrick the key to my apartment today._

The key. He shook his head. He knew that she had been disappointed in his reaction that morning. God, he really was an ass. He'd just have to make it up to her when she came back. That was it. Patrick pushed any thought that that wouldn't happen out of his head and continued reading. As he skimmed the words one caught his eye. _Love._ He sat up straighter and went to the beginning of the sentence.

_I love him. I have no idea what to do with this information, and no one could be more shocked to see it in print than I am, but there it is. I'm in love with Patrick Drake. Now what do I do with it? It's not like I can tell him – that would completely freak him out. He's still getting used to the concept of dating. I must remember to take baby steps with him. But the fact still remains. I love him. I love that he challenges me, that he doesn't treat me like a porcelain doll that will break. I love his dimple, his chest; the way one look from him across the nurse's station can curl my toes and make me blush. He drives me crazy, flirts with anything that moves, thinks everything is all about him, and I just…I love him. It would be so much easier if I didn't. Where exactly do I go from here? I guess it's not something I need to figure out –_

It ended there abruptly. Patrick stared at the words swirling before him. The last words she wrote before she was taken away. She loved him? How was that possible? Why would she let herself do something so stupid? I mean, of course, he was a great guy. But love? He wasn't so sure he deserved her love. He looked up at the ceiling, his heart beating a mile a minute.

How could she possibly know if she was in love with him? Granted, his dad had told him he would just know, which, really, what kind of an answer was that? And his advice had been completely unsolicited. Noah had cornered him in the hospital cafeteria one afternoon after he had discovered Robin sneaking out of the sixth floor supply closet, and moments later,  
Patrick. It was during their "no strings attached/just sex phase" and apparently Noah had felt the need to play dad.

_"So what are you doing, Sport?" He took a long sip of his coffee, a small smile on his lips._

"What are you talking about?"

Noah sighed and stared back at him. "I'm not stupid. What's going on with you and Dr. Scorpio?"

"I don't think that's any of your business, but we are two consenting adults and I've already gotten the third degree from her father."

"Her father? So it's serious?"

Patrick laughed. "C'mon. I don't do serious. We're just having fun. No strings."

"Uh huh."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I see you. I see what you become around her. This is not just sex Patrick, and I can't believe that Robin would agree to something like that."

"She practically wrote the rules Dad."

"You're in more trouble than I thought. Listen, let me give you some advice. In the immortal words of the great Rick Springfield, 'Have a little blind faith. Believe. It's an affair of the heart."

Patrick stared at him blankly. "Was that supposed to help?"

"I don't know. It always worked on your mother."

"Well, I'm glad we had this little conversation Dad, but I've really got to get back to my patients…" Patrick scraped the chair away from the table and got up to leave.

"Hold on." Noah grabbed his son's sleeve. "When it hits you that you are in love with this woman and you have no idea what to do next, I'll be here for you. It happened to me with your mother and I was a wreck."

"Well Dad, don't expect any midnight phone calls from me. This is all working out just the way Robin and I planned it."

Memories pelted him like a reel playing in his mind…Robin drenched at the cabin that first night they spent together, throwing a machete, dancing, cheering at the race track, looking up at him with unbridled excitement, lying on his stomach while reading the paper in bed, and her eyes while they were making love and what that look did to him every time. He let out a short terrified laugh. "I'm in love with Robin Scorpio," he whispered. Oh, his dad was going to have a field day with this. He felt nauseous. Were you supposed to feel nauseous when you were in love?

A knock on his door snapped him out of his reverie, and he crossed the room to open the door and find Aidan there. The Brit was bent over slightly, one hand on the door frame, the other on his hip. "Hey Mate," he said softly.

Patrick didn't like the sound of his voice. The look on his face. He tried to search Aidan's eyes for clues. "What? What have you heard? Did you find her?"

"I just got a call from my Aunt. There's been a discovery. A…body. In Prague. With Robin's ID."

TBC

A/N: If you'd like to read more about Alex Devane-Marick check out her bio here: http/ (Believe it or not we didn't make up any of that brainwashing stuff!)  



	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

**

* * *

**

_I saw my grandmother killed in front of me when I was 9. That was the first dead body of someone that I knew and loved that I ever saw. One thing I've learned is that no matter how many you see you never become inured to it, or maybe I would if I was an assassin or soldier, but for me each one is a fresh shock. Each one sticks in my mind and I can recall the moment exactly. The sight of the body and the disbelief that this person who was alive is now not is just surreal. After my grandmother was killed I went mute for a while. I think my child's mind thought that if I didn't speak it Grant wouldn't come back and hurt me like he originally intended or that he wouldn't hurt my mother. That part of it I can't remember clearly. But always in my mind these specific moments are surreal, like they happened to someone else. And they never really go away.

* * *

_  
There were no words he could form, no thoughts possible as Patrick walked down the starkly lit hallway. His mind was not working, only his senses. He could smell the cleaning products that were used in the hallway and beyond it the chemicals associated with death. It was similar to the smells of the hospital, but the distinction was palpable. He could hear his shoes squeaking over the tiles that were obviously recently cleaned, but dingy with age and would never again be their original white or beige. He could hear his own breath, his own heartbeat. If he listened close enough he could even hear his father's. His father who walked beside him, this time there with him to face death instead of sneaking away from it out the back door. In the midst of all this he was suddenly swamped with a love for his father that took his breath away. More and more over the past days he was coming to understand in an all too real way why his father had walked out of the hospital and out of his life to hide in a bottle when he had lost his wife. Patrick halted suddenly and closed his eyes against the tears that blinded him.

Robin had given him this.

"Son?" Noah's hand was warm and heavy on his shoulder.

"I don't know if I can do this," Patrick whispered. He reached up and wiped at the tears that wet his cheeks. He was too tired, too stricken to care that grown men didn't cry. He opened his eyes and looked into his father's matching sad ones and thought that maybe they did. He nodded at his father's questioning look. He would do this. He had to do this. That's why he had volunteered.

It could have been Anna or Aidan, but he wanted to be the one to face it. He had been surprised that Anna had let him; she was such a strong and fiercely independent woman. Much like her daughter. But maybe she had understood his need to take care of this? Or maybe she just couldn't bear to do it herself. Maybe he'd be able to ask someday.

He took one last swipe at his cheeks. "Thanks for walking with me, Dad." He reached out, hesitated and then grasped onto his father's t-shirt, near the shoulder.

"Do you want me to come in with you?"

Patrick shook his head. "Wait for me out here?" His voice was distorted by tears.

"Of course." Noah put his hand on Patrick's cheek. "You can do this."

Patrick closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened his eyes and licked his lips. Without another word he let go of his father and walked the remainder of the way down the hall and through the swinging blue doors.

* * *

Patrick waited in the sterile room for them to roll in…the body. He swallowed and shoved his hands into the pocket of his slacks to keep them still. He heard the squeak of the wheels of the gurney before the doors on the other end of the room were opened and the gurney was pushed through by a young guy who looked appropriately stern, despite his punk hair. Behind him was the medical examiner with a clipboard in his hand.

The guy looked at Patrick, silently asking if Patrick was ready. Patrick nodded and braced himself.

The guy pulled the crisp, white sheet back.

Patrick's heart seized when he saw the straight, dark hair uncovered. It panged when he saw the white forehead. The eyes. He walked around from his position at the head to take a look at the face. He removed his hands from his pockets. They were shaking too much and jingling the spare change in his pocket. The sound was jarring and disturbing.

"Oh my god," he couldn't stop the shocked expostulation.

"You know this woman, then?" the elder doctor asked.

"I know her." Patrick blew out a breath.

"Is this Robin Scorpio?"

"No. It's not Robin. It's not Brenda Barrett either. This is Angela Dennis."

* * *

The body that had been dumped at the city garbage dump and clothed in hospital scrubs had been pinned with Robin's General Hospital ID. The authorities had been suspicious of the identification because she resembled, but did not exactly match the photo on the ID, even with the decomposition. The group from America had wondered if perhaps it was Brenda who still had not been located. Patrick, and everyone else, had desperately hoped it wasn't either woman. And now they knew it wasn't. No one ever expected it to be the woman Patrick had met in the bar in Toronto.

"How do you know her?" the Deputy Police President based in Prague at the Czech Police HQ known as the _Policejni presidium_.

"We met in Toronto when we were there looking for Robin who we were told was last seen there. I bought her a drink, we chatted. She said she was there on business. Public relations, she said." Patrick tried to think back, but truthfully he hadn't been listening to what the woman was saying. "We chatted for a few minutes and then I saw…someone else I knew and left her. I never saw her again. I don't know when she left the bar." He had seen, he remembered all too vividly, Robin in her red dress walking past him and then he had seen Heather from _Banana Republic_. Who was also still missing, despite what Sean Donely had told them.

"How did this woman get to our city?" the police inspector asked.

Patrick shrugged. He had gone through this story three times already. He was already used to law enforcement's seeming need to hear a story over and over again, it didn't even irritate him. He just wanted it done.

The only thing that made him uncomfortable was explaining to Robin's family and his father how he met the woman. He kept reminding himself that nothing happened, but he knew that he had considered it. Had wanted it to happen. Even if it was just to numb himself for a while it made him feel guilty and he knew he looked it. Which was why the local police inspector had been suspicious of his story.

"It can't be a coincidence that you meet this woman and then she ends up here, dead, with your missing girlfriend's identification."

"No kidding." Patrick shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you. I wish you could tell me something. All I know is that the name she gave me was Angela Dennis. I met her that once and never saw her again. How she got Robin's ID." Patrick stopped and shook his head. The feeling of being useless and in over his head was starting to come back, but for now all he felt was overwhelming relief. He cleared his throat. "Are we done yet?" He had a sudden urge to go outside and shout.

"Yes. We have your contact number."

"Good." Patrick got up and strode out of the well-appointed office and straight out of the building. He walked right past Anna and Noah who were sitting in the lobby waiting for him and making phone calls. He ignored his father's calling of his name.

He needed fresh air. He needed space.

He walked through the double doors of the municipal building, down the stairs and across the street. Then he turned left and he just kept walking. His cell phone began to ring. He considered ignoring it, but the thought that it could be Robin halted him in his tracks. She was still alive, he knew it now. He opened his phone and waited.

"Patrick, are you all right," Noah asked.

"I'm fine, I need some air. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"All right, Son."

Patrick closed his phone and put it back in his pocket and continued walking. The normalcy of the crowds around him settled his nerves. These were people heading to work, going shopping, going for lunch, worrying about bills, lovers. Normal. He'd missed normal sometime a week back. God, how long had Robin been missing now? Only seven days. It felt so much longer. Her absence was becoming a permanent ache in his chest and stomach now, he felt hollow. He turned and looked at the wares for sale and realized he was stopped in front of a bookshop. After a second's hesitation he went in.

* * *

"This is getting stranger by the minute," Patrick said.

"No, this is a good thing. We're getting more and more things to work with," Anna said from where she sat on the couch across from him.

Anna and Patrick were in the suite room they had secured in Prague when it was decided to stay longer so that Alex and Noah could observe the autopsy of the woman they knew as Angela Dennis. Aidan was out hunting down her passport and other information on her whereabouts, though it was highly likely she had given Patrick a fake name. Patrick had wanted to observe the autopsy himself, but Anna had asked him to let Noah and her sister handle it. Patrick had seen a look pass between Anna and Noah and suspected they had discussed protecting his feelings, although he wasn't clear why since it wasn't Robin who was being autopsied. His stomach lurched at the thought and he walked back over to the open window that overlooked the eastern bloc capitol.

"Do we need a white board?" he asked after he took a few cleansing breaths of fresh air. He turned back around to see the woman who unnervingly resembled his girlfriend.

"I don't think that's necessary at this point. What I want to do is find Brenda. Go over with me again what her office said and what her assistant said in Paris."

Patrick reiterated what he and Aidan had found out. That her office said she was on vacation, that her assistant was surprised and panicked by her absence from the shows and that no one else at the Paris shows had heard from Brenda Barrett. There hadn't been any calls on Robin's phones and no emails, which Patrick had forwarded to his Blackberry.

"Why did you want me to stay with you? Why not Alex or someone else with more training?"

"You have a good eye, Dr. Drake. Let's go through these photographs and see what we can gain from them. There has to be a clue here, but what?"

Anna laid out the photos onto the coffee table. One after another, Patrick eyed each of them carefully, but did not touch. When she got towards the bottom of the pile something in one of them caught his eye.

"Where did you get this one?" he asked, pointing at one of the photos she had just put down.

"It was in the pile of papers you brought from Robin's apartment."

"I never saw this before. None of us had a camera." Patrick frowned as he lifted up the photo of him and Robin hugging, with Robert looking on in the background. Something niggled at him as he studied it. He moved his finger to get a better grip and his finger stuck slightly to the print. He frowned and looked up at the other photos. His eye immediately tracked onto the photo of himself during the epidemic. He leaned down and picked it up.

"What do you see, Patrick?" Anna asked.

"Both of these photos have the same weird printing effect. I thought when I found this one it was because it was printed out from Robin's printer, but I printed those from the same program and printer and they're fine." He pointed to the photos he had taken in Toronto. "I don't know how Robin could have gotten these photos, never mind printed them off." He handed them to Anna.

"They look like they were taken by surveillance cameras, not the security kind, the pocket kind. This one looks like it's in the Maarkham Islands and I suppose this one was during the epidemic and is at General Hospital? Was anyone else in the chapel with you?" Patrick shook his head. "The question is how they got to Robin."

Patrick frowned and stood up. He licked his lips as he thought. "Could…." He trailed off and looked at Anna. "Could someone have given them to her?"

"You mean whoever came to her apartment and took her?" Anna asked, nodding approvingly. "If they had these photos of you, photos that no one should have, would she have gone willingly with them? I can't think of anything else that would make her do that other than a threat to the people she loves." Anna saw him pale at her deliberate use of the word love. She raised her eyebrows at him and challenged him to deny it.

Patrick, hands on his hips, looked down at the floor for a moment, then he looked Robin's mother in the eye. "I know she loves me. I…I love her too." Now that the words were out he wondered how he had kept them in for so long.

"Feel better now?" Anna asked, quietly, moved by the tall man in front of her who had given his heart to her daughter and who had gotten hers - all against the odds of their broken pasts.

"Honestly. No." Patrick looked up at the ceiling. His skin felt cold and clammy. "It doesn't change my thoughts – all I can think is where the hell is she? Is she all right? Is she scared?" He looked again at Anna, his eyes darker than she'd ever seen them. "She gets so scared when there's violence."

Something flickered in Anna's heart at his words. How many people knew that about Robin? How many people would she allow to know that? Any trace of doubt that might have been left about this man disappeared. She walked up to Patrick and put her hand on his forearm. "Maybe inside, but there is no one better under pressure than Robin. She has many, many skills and a survival instinct like you wouldn't believe." She squeezed the arm of the newest member of the Devane-Scorpio clan.

"Krav Maga. Jijutsu. Guns. Knives." He absently rubbed his ears. "And a wit and temper that could take your skin off." Patrick put his hands back on his hips. "Clues. You said she would leave clues. These photos are clues. Are there others? Did she have time?"

"She probably didn't have time to do anything but let us know that she didn't leave by choice – the photos, leaving the PDA out of place, leaving a mess."

"She packed for a long trip,' Patrick said, once again beset by conflicting emotions – terror that she had been taken, relief that she hadn't left him by choice, hope that they would need to keep her alive. Unhurt. "Brenda's assistant said she was coming here, to Prague." He looked over the table for the photos of Brenda and Robin. "Could these photos of Brenda be real?"

"They could be or they could have just put Robin into real photos of Brenda."

Patrick studied the one of the pool closer, then he closed his eyes, thinking back. "My mother loved castles and old estates, medieval, Gothic, baroque, rococo, all the really gaudy stuff. We went on family vacations to look at places like this," he said in reference to the Baroque building in the background. "She had books all over the house. This is going to sound crazy, but I think I recognize this …" Patrick's eyes popped open and he trailed off, stunned. "This is Prague Castle, it was in the first _Mission Impossible_ movie, it was the only thing besides the car and the women I liked. Around when the movie came out some friends of mine went and snuck in and took photos. I had some big races and couldn't go. They showed us pictures, my mom told us about the castle's history." He licked his lips and took a deep breath. His mom had died not too long after that and he had horded memories like this, it was a clear as day in his mind. Her face and voice as she recounted the history and the photo. That looked like this photo.

Anna pulled out a map of Prague while he spoke and spread it out on top of the evidence spread out on the table. She pointed to Prague Castle next to River Vltava.

"Could Brenda really be there?" Patrick asked, his voice rising with eagerness.

"Let's find out."

"I'll call Aidan and tell him to meet us near the castle." Patrick dug into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone.

"Actually, have him meet us here. I'll track down plans for the castle. We need to make a plan first."

"Why don't we just call and ask…" Patrick broke off and stared wide-eyed at his phone device. "What the hell?"

"What is it?" Anna walked over to Patrick.

"A text message. I don't know when this came in, I never got an alert. It says 'Long trip 4 wndw shppng.' What does that mean?"

"Who's it from?" Anna asked.

Patrick pressed a couple of buttons. "It was sent via the Web. No signature." He licked his lips and his heart pounded. "Could it be from Robin?" His voice broke on her name.

"Let's trace it."

Patrick wordlessly handed the device to Anna. She was alive. He knew it. He walked over to the window and realized that he could see Prague Castle in the distance.

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

**

* * *

**

_One of my initial impressions of Patrick Drake was that he was the type of guy who would make and probably had made a land-speed record when the word commitment came up (the other was how damn hot he was, not that I am ever going to admit that). Acquaintance did not lessen the perception. Then somewhere along the way I forgot. Perhaps it was due to an engineered virus that caused hallucinations? Maybe it was because of mind-bending, toe-curling, pelvis shattering sex? But, yeah, land-speed record impression reared its ugly head again. I could see it in his eyes the morning after Kell's, the night that we made a connection that neither of us could deny – or talk about. It was in his stilted swagger at the hospital the next day. And it was definitely the deliberately blank look he gave me when I caught him in a clinch with one of the new nurses. I knew, I know Patrick was looking for a buffer/mattress, but it still hurt. And the thing is that no matter the feelings that we might have for the other, I have no right to be upset because our agreement was no-strings sex. I can't make him act on whatever it is he feels and I feel so alone now. I didn't even realize how much of my life Patrick had become. I really wish Brenda was here. Or my mother.

* * *

_  
"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Anna rolled her eyes as she helped Noah muss his hair and put the finishing touches on his playboy rocker outfit. "Shouldn't your son help you with the hair, he seems to have a knack for it?"

"If I had talked you into anything you'd be wearing that little nurse's uniform you wore when we were questioning Robin's patients." Noah smirked into the mirror, catching Anna's eyes in the reflection. "Besides, I like your fingers in my hair."

"I didn't wear one of those!" Anna rolled her eyes.

"You did in my mind." He winked at her, clearly impressed with himself that he had made the international super spy woman blush.

"You're insufferable."

"Two gorgeous twins on the arms of a hot playboy rocker and their two bodyguards is the perfect ploy to get in the front door. You're just miffed that you didn't think of it."

"I think it's the outfit that has me miffed," Anna said dryly and ran her hands over the black material clinging to her hips.

Noah licked his lips as he turned and ran his eyes deliberately over Anna's provocative, black outfit. Before she could retaliate, Patrick's voice cut through the room.

"You sure this is going to work? Why aren't we going in under cover of night, again?" Patrick asked, hands on his hips. His eyes were on his father and Anna and he didn't look happy with what he was seeing.

"Because this is real life, mate, not fiction. It's a lot easier to get into a private residence in the light of day – less security. Especially when said residence is a hundreds of years old castle built for defense," Aidan said. They were all standing around the map of Prague Castle working out the plan. Much of the castle was open to tourists, but they were breaking into the part that was comprised of recently renovated apartments that were sold as private residences with a cache address, a model copied from _Schonbrunn Palace_ in Vienna. They were fairly certain that Brenda was being held in was the largest of them, comprised of four apartments together and a pool area – the one where the photos were taken.

"It can't be too hard if my high school buddies did it," Patrick pointed out.

Noah laughed at Patrick's comments and the father and son shared a grin at the memory of Patrick's high school partners in crime. The moment of shared history gave Patrick a fleeting sensation of warmth. It had been a long time since he and his father had shared a connection and it was occurring more and more often lately. Thanks to Robin. The warmth dissipated, he eyed Anna and turned his attention back to the map and the points that Anna was marking.

"Make sure that you have your syringes on the ready," Anna told Aidan and Patrick, ignoring Patrick's obvious displeasure. "Aidan and I counted ten guards, but we couldn't see to the pool area and we didn't see Brenda. The windows seem to be blocked off."

Aidan mumbled under his breath his continuing distrust of the concoction David Hayward had sent to Anna. He knew that it was quieter than using guns and risking someone overhearing and either calling reinforcements or the authorities, but he just didn't trust Hayward and still couldn't understand how his aunt had fallen for the guy. At least, he reminded himself again, the unethical doctor hadn't shown up himself.

"Shouldn't we have guns?" Noah asked, the eagerness in his voice made Anna chuckle.

"Aidan?" Anna said.

"Taken care of. We'll show you what you need to know before head out, but don't draw them unless you absolutely have to," he said to the Drake men.

"I know I'm the rank amateur here," Patrick said slowly, "But if Brenda is sitting by the poolside as she is in these photos maybe she isn't being held against her will?"

"Brenda would not miss Fashion Week, not only does she love it, it's important to her business. And she would not be out of touch with either her business or Robin. Has she made any of her regular calls to Robin?" Anna asked Patrick who periodically checked Robin's messages. Patrick shook his head. "Fine. We'll show you what you need to know about the guns and get going."

* * *

"You all right?" Noah asked his son. They stood off to the side of the group as they made their way to their rendezvous spot where Alex was using her Marric connections to arrange for their transportation once they had retrieved Brenda to a safe house outside the city to a safe house.

"Shouldn't you be practicing your Australian accent?" Patrick said stiffly, keeping his eye on the syringes he was checking one last time. "Or maybe hitting on Robin's mother? Because there's nothing like trying to get laid while Robin is in danger."

Noah's eyes softened. "Anna is worried about her daughter; I'm trying to keep her spirits up."

"That's not the only think you're trying to keep up," Patrick accused bitterly.

"I won't insult your intelligence by denying that I find Anna Devane to be a very attractive and compelling woman. I mean no disrespect to Robin. Or your mother," Noah added pointedly. "But my main focus is finding Robin and being here for you."

"This isn't about Mom." Patrick licked his lips and looked away.

"You sure?"

Patrick sighed and tilted his head back. "It's not. You deserve to be happy." He looked at his father uneasily.

"It's a bit early to talk about being happy," Noah's eyes darted towards Anna and then back to his son. "We have to keep it together and if my being an insufferable pig helps Anna keep on game." He stopped and shrugged. "I have a knack for it."

"Robin calls me that." Patrick closed his eyes and shook his head, a ghost of a smile tilting his full lips. "I love her, Dad." He choked on the words and opened his eyes. "I want her here even if she hates me. I need her here. Watching you with her mother reminds me of how much I miss her. God, now I'm sharing my feelings. How can she miss this?" Patrick choked out and bracketed his lips with his fingers.

Noah gripped Patrick's arms and waited until Patrick looked at him. "I know. I know." His words were firm and deep with empathy.

From the other side of the room Anna called out that it was time to leave.

"We're going to find her and she's going to be okay," Noah affirmed. Patrick nodded and walked away. Noah blew out a breath and wondered when he had become such a cheerleader.

* * *

"Why do I think that your lustful enjoyment is not completely an act?" Alex said in an undertone as they walked up to the front door of the residence they had cased earlier that day.

"I surely can't imagine," Noah said, rolling his hips and his letters with ease in a more than fair approximation of an Australian accent.

"It's scary you can do that so well," Patrick muttered from behind where he and Aidan in their matching black suits and sunglasses were bringing up as bodyguards.

"Please ring the bell, darling," Noah instructed Alex as he nuzzled Anna's neck, chuckling quietly at the shiver and quick dig of a heel at his ankle the movement elicited from her. "Mmmm," he murmured into her neck. "Tastes like Cristal." He kept up his ministrations even as Alex took back his other arm and feigned a pout as she scoped out any movement around them.

"Oh brother," Patrick muttered.

"In character," Aidan ordered.

Patrick stiffened and crossed his arms in front of his body and stared straight ahead, blocking out the mental image of his father canoodling with Robin's mother.

"Don't want you to feel neglected, pet." Noah turned his attention to Alex. Put his arm around her waist and pulling her closer and brushing a kiss over her lips as the front door opened. "Ah, there ya are. We're here to look at the place, maybe enjoy some amenities!" Noah said, this time his put on accent sounding slurred with drink.

"Get out." The man at the door's hazel eyes were blank, his voice accented and his tone mean.

"What my employer means," Aidan smoothly cut in, "Is that you should be expecting us to look around."

"This is a private residence, not a hotel. You have the wrong door," the beefy man at the door made to close the door so Noah dragged the woman forward into the breach before he had the chance, Patrick and Aidan moved in menacingly behind them.

"Like I said, we should be expected." Aidan pushed past Alex, shoved the door hard and flashed his gun. "Your boss should have gotten a call from his host that his Marrick connections wanted to look around."

The beefy man waved over another beefy man. "We don't know what you're talking about." He flashed his own gun.

"What's with all this gun play? There are so many other types of playing that are much more fun. Come now, let's take a little tour, have a little drink. Do you have a drink? I could sure use a drink. And lord knows we'll all need one when the paparazzi that follows me everywhere shows up." Noah smiled the sweet smile of the drunk and famous and with Anna and Alex they moved erratically around so as to be hard to contain. "I'm interested in staying in a castle. Is this one haunted?" He walked to the end of the foyer and went to open a large, wooden door.

"Don't open that!" One of the security men stormed over and blocked Noah from the door.

"Hey, man, what's the deal. If there's a VIP room I need to be in it. Don't you know who I am? Like I said, the photographers will be here in a kangaroo minute!"

"We don't and you need to leave."

"Our boss isn't going anywhere until you show him what he wants to see." This threat came from Patrick. The adrenaline rushing through him gave his voice a hard edge and the gun at his hip gave him a boost of confidence.

"Check with your boss, mate," Aidan said, his gun hidden, but clearly within easy reach. "No one wants a picture of this kind of thing to make the papers."

The two men exchanged a glance. "You wait in here." The man in front of the door Noah tried to open pulled it open to reveal a large den-like room.

"Well, this is just lovely. Can't you see me with a smoking jacket and a pipe in here? Maybe some hounds to finish off the picture. Might make a good album cover for the next release? Change the image up a bit."

"Sort of retro," Alex chimed in as she and Anna pretended to guide the inebriated rock star into the den.

Aidan and Patrick stayed in the foyer with the other two guards in a stand off.

"You need to get in there," one of them said in his heavily accented English.

"After you," Aidan said implacably facing off with the men. His actions were a diversion so that Alex could get the syringe Noah was hiding in the pocket of his shoddy corduroy sports coat and Patrick could get at the one he was holding.

Patrick cleared his throat and Aidan moved forward past one of the guards and then spun with a quick round house and brought him down. Alex rushed out of the room and immobilized him with the contents of her syringe as Aidan and Patrick rushed the other guy and got him down too.

"Maybe we should have done this in the room," Patrick said as they struggled to quickly drag the two men into the room and closed the door behind them.

**BEEP BEEP BEEP**

"Shut that off!" Alex whispered to Patrick who was hurriedly trying to top off the syringe, put his gun away and get to his Blackberry, the sound of which was echoing through the room. Alex and Anna were busy securing the two guards and the person claiming to be their host onto the heavy furniture.

"Dammit." Patrick uttered when the syringe dropped to the floor. He put his foot on it and pulled out the device. His eyes widened when he saw another cryptic text message come through. One that was eerily familiar.

_Turn 3's a tough 1 - If u drift ur toast_

"I could use some help here! Big guy needs another dose!" Alex jarred his concentration. He shoved the device back into his pocket, this time on vibrate, and grabbed another syringe from his pocket and plunged it into the guy Alex had down on the ground with as much finesse as a first-year med student.

"He's out." Patrick said a moment later after shining the penlight in the guy's pupils. He got up from the floor and walked towards the door with Alex. As soon as his hand touched the door knob he remembered why the text message was familiar.

He had said it to Robert Scorpio in front of Robin. His stomach jumped with excitement as he pulled the door open right into a crew of three beefy security guards.

"Hey, how ya doing?" Patrick smiled and waved idiotically, momentarily distracting the guards and giving Noah the opportunity to sneak up from the side, bend down low and jab one guard while Alex lunged under Patrick's arm for the other. Everyone immediately began dragging the guards into the room and Noah clipped their hands behind their backs with handcuffs while Alex and Patrick checked pulses to make sure everyone was alive.

"Let's go." Anna stood at the door and waved everyone out. "This is where we split up. No more than twenty minutes and we meet at the prearranged spot."

Aidan waved Patrick with him, while Noah ran off with the women to check upstairs to see if Brenda was being held up there.

Four down. Six to go.

* * *

"Remind me not to piss you off." Noah whistled at the three guards Anna had taken down in less than a minute and that he and Alex were now injecting and tying up.

"I definitely will," Anna said as she opened every door in the hallway they were in. "She must have been kept in here!" she called out as she ducked into a room.

Alex kept watch in the hall, her gun drawn as Noah followed Anna. Noah walked in and whistled again at the mess of women's clothing and product strewn around, while Anna walked over to the window and pulled the curtains apart to show a window that was blocked off with wood. As hasty, but effective job.

"Let's finish searching up here." Anna led Noah out of the room.

* * *

"Not bad," Aidan said as Patrick cuffed the last of the guards they had run into. He was referring to Patrick's admirable take down of one of the guards with a right hook followed up with a swift kick to the balls.

Patrick grunted and headed towards the kitchen where they knew there were doors to the backyard and pool area. Brenda hadn't been found in any of the downstairs rooms. As they walked through the kitchen they saw the fixings for mixed drinks and lunch. Patrick moved to one side of the French doors as Aidan moved to the other. On Aidan's signal, Patrick unlatched the door and Aidan rushed through, gun in his hands.

* * *

"Beautiful," Anna murmured and ran her hand over the desktop computer they had found in one of the bedrooms that was obviously operating as a communications center. She reached into her cleavage and pulled out a thin screwdriver and got to work unscrewing the case.

Alex meanwhile was disconnecting a secondary drive and began doing the same once Anna tossed her the screwdriver.

Noah stood at the door, his gun held firmly, but awkwardly in his hands.

* * *

They turned a corner to see a beautiful blue pool shimmering under the waning sun. On the far side of the pool a woman who appeared to Aidan to be a dark-haired goddess was lounging in a tiny red bikini. Aidan, gun held in front of him, kept his eyes on her as he waved Patrick to walk on the other side of the pool. He walked slowly, turning around every few steps to prevent anyone from taking them by surprise. Patrick mimicked his actions.

As he approached, he wondered why the woman didn't hear them and then he realized she had earphones in. He swallowed as he saw her luscious body moving to the beat of whatever she was listening to. He looked up at Patrick.

"She can't hear us, get her attention." Patrick slid his gun back into his waist and tapped Brenda on the shoulder.

"Brenda?" Patrick's husky voice cut through Brenda's music and she opened her eyes, pulled her ear buds out of her ears and propped herself up on her elbows. She grinned and removed her sunglasses and looked at the gorgeous specimens in front of her.

"Oh, good, I need another drink." Brenda smiled at the two handsome waiters and held out her empty glass.

Aidan and Patrick looked at each other and then back at the gorgeous woman lying in the sun in a black bikini in surprise.

"And then I need more sunscreen on my back." She tilted her glasses down her nose and looked at Aidan. "You're cute. You must be new."

* * *

"I told you she wasn't in danger," Patrick groused as they walked into the house an hour outside Prague they were decamping to for the time being.

"I most certainly was!" Brenda regally walking ahead of him protested.

"Nice tan," Patrick snarked as he followed her into the house carrying the baggage Brenda insisted on retrieving from the house once she found out her captors were all down for the count.

"What the hell else was I supposed to do being trapped there?" Brenda spun around and snapped. "I don't know who the hell you think you are…"

"I am the guy who has been worrying night and day for days about Robin, about whether she's all right, whether she's scared or hurt. That's who I am. I'm here looking for her! I wasn't sitting poolside working on my tan!" Patrick shouted.

"I didn't know Robin was missing! He lured me with some story about real estate for an expansion boutique and then locked me in! I was supposed to be back days ago to go to Paris and then I would have known that you had lost her!"

Patrick stepped forward ominously. His face red with rage.

"Enough already," Aidan put an arm between the two combatants. "Let's take this inside."

Patrick tossed Brenda's bags off his shoulders and stormed past her into the house.

"It's not his fault," Aidan said quietly to the woman who was rapidly blinking back tears.

"I know. I just can't believe." Brenda broke off and covered her mouth. "I didn't know what was going on. I don't understand why they were holding me."

"You were part of the WSB's story that Robin was on vacation with you."

"I don't get why Sean Donley would lie about that. Who were those guys? Were they WSB or part of the people who have Robin?"

"We brought one of them back with us so we'll find out." Aidan knelt down and began to retrieve the baggage Patrick had dumped.

"With a little help from Robin's stepfather's potions. Let me help you." Brenda reached out to grab her makeup kit. Her and Aidan's hands touched on the handle and her eyes widened in surprise.

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

* * *

_World Security Bureau. WSB. I was always in awe that my parents were part of it. I was so proud that they protected the world and made it a safe place for other kids like me. Then I hated it. I hated it for taking my parents away from me for months at a time. I hated that it put them in danger. Then I hated that it cost them their lives. Sometimes I think that's probably why I got involved with Sonny's world and men in it – the polar opposite of that law and order crowd, or so it seemed. All deeply subliminal, of course. Now. There are no words for my hatred. To have been not only deprived of my parents, but used as a pawn to hurt them turns my stomach in ways I can't describe. They left my mother out there for years lost and my father was held hostage by a threat on my life. Years lost. A family obliterated. How could something that claims to protect us destroy like that? _

_I guess some would say the same thing about what I do, about medicine. _

_I don't know what I'm saying. I guess I'm questioning everything these days. _

* * *

Sean knew he shouldn't have stayed at the Metro Court. As soon as he learned that Spencer's niece was a co-owner, he should have run in the opposite direction. Now, the place was crawling with cops and he could barely get through the lobby up to his room. Apparently, Ms. Corinthos had been found dead that morning and the cause of death was listed under mysterious circumstances. From what Sean understood, Carly had a reputation such that half the town of Port Charles and most of the surrounding counties could be considered suspects.

Oh well. Shaking his head he made his way to the elevator bank and waited for the slow ride up to the 12th floor. For the tenth time that evening he took out his Blackberry searching for a message that never came. The elevator doors opened and Sean stepped in, leaned against the back bar and closed his eyes.

* * *

"I always told Robin she should try an older man." Brenda traced a finger across Noah's jaw line.

"Wrong Drake, sweetheart," Patrick sneered.

Brenda swiveled her head around. "That's exactly what I tried to tell her, Doctor Hottie."

"Brenda, go through again for us exactly where and how you met this broker." Aidan used his most calming and soothing voice to steer the conversation. He'd only known Brenda for an hour or so, but he could see that she was growing frustrated with his line of questioning. And the more frustrated she got, the more she baited Patrick who was more than up for the challenge.

Brenda rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "We've been over this a dozen times. I don't understand why we're not out doing something. Anything." She looked at the faces staring back at her, settling on Anna. "There must be some sort of lead as to where she is. Maybe the WSB has her. Has anyone spoken with Sean Donely? You know, out of all of Robin's godfathers, I always thought he was a little shifty."

"If the WSB had Robin they wouldn't need you to doctor pictures of her," Patrick said.

"We don't actually know yet that it was the WSB who had me, now do we? Not until we question that guard who's still passed out," Brenda shot back.

"Why do you have to argue with everything I say?"

"Why do you have to question everything I do?"

"Robin was right. You're lots of fun," Patrick snapped.

"Robin was right about you, too. You're an insufferable pig."

"Enough! Why are you both acting like you're five years old? You're making my bloody head spin!" Aidan's handsome face was red with frustration.

"Brenda, luv, we know this is difficult," Anna kneeled down at her feet. "But everything you tell us will help us put the pieces together to find Robin."

"I'm sorry, Anna. I want to help, I just don't know anything." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Okay, like I told you before, I met this broker, Giorgio Cardona, at a pre-event for the Paris fashion shows. We were in Rome, I told him about my boutique and he asked if I'd ever thought about expanding. To be honest, I only said yes because he was so cute and I was so bored. Those cocktail parties can be deadly tiresome." Brenda saw Patrick roll his eyes, but she continued without comment. "Giorgio suggested a hot property he had in Prague and I figured I could use a mini break, so I met up with him."

"And you left for Prague when?"

"October 3rd."

"The day after Robin went missing," Noah said.

"I didn't know she was gone. I swear I had no idea."

"We know, Brenda." Aidan put a reassuring hand on her arm and Brenda looked up at him. She smiled sadly.

"Once we got to Prague, Giorgio took me to the castle to show me around. I stepped into a room and the door was slammed shut behind me and locked. I never saw Giorgio again, just those over muscled guards. They never harmed me, but it was made very clear that I wasn't going to be leaving any time soon."

"Did you even try to escape?" Patrick's voice was low but intense.

"Of course I tried to escape!"

"Patrick, that's enough. It's not Brenda's fault she was kidnapped; she's the victim here," Alex said.

"Son, come on. Let's get some air." Noah reached for Patrick who hesitated, staring at Brenda for a moment before following his father out of the room.

Brenda watched him leave and tried not to let his words get to her. "I figured that Robin would start to worry when she didn't hear from me and she'd send out the cavalry. Having a best friend with international spy parents is supposed to come in handy. Speaking of which, where is Big Daddy Scorpio?"

* * *

The hotel room was quiet except for the angry staccato outbursts of its sole inhabitant.

"I want Frisco Jones put on this immediately!"

"I don't care how deep cover he is. I need our best person on this now!"

"Are you saying you want us to do nothing? Do you know how dire this is? Robert has missed three protocol checks!"

"Don't talk to me about collateral damage!"

Sean slammed the hotel phone down on the cradle and ran his hands over his face. When had this all gone so terribly wrong? In the 40 years he'd been doing this, ops had gone off the rails more times than he'd like to admit, but the stakes this time were as high as he'd ever played. He loved that girl like his own daughter and now his best friend was in trouble, too. Everything he and Robert had done, including misleading Anna as to Robin's real location, was done for the good of the mission. Although a lot of good that excuse was going to do him once Anna found out the truth. And he was going to have to tell her the truth now.

Not even Tiffany knew the true extent to which he was involved – had been involved since the very beginning, which went back farther than any of them were aware. " Paris," he whispered.

When he thought about what he had done – all to protect Robin and bring her home safe – only to realize that because of him she may never come home again, it was too much. He would never forgive himself…Sean steeled his shoulders. Well that wasn't going to happen. He wouldn't let it happen. He pulled out his phone and made a quick call. "Meet me at the usual drop off." He snapped the phone shut, threw a few amenities in his bag and strode out the door.

* * *

Ironically, it wasn't exactly safe to wander the grounds of the safe house, so Patrick and Noah settled for the kitchen. Far enough away from the rest of the group to help Patrick regroup and yet still in the safe confines of this simple country cottage tucked away in the woods of Belgium. At least Patrick thought they were still in Belgium. He opened the refrigerator looking for something to eat; something to take his mind off the current situation. Noah just sighed and searched through the cupboards, settling on a jar of peanut butter. He took out two spoons and leaned against the sink, clearing his throat and offering a spoon to his son. Patrick grabbed the spoon and leaned in next to his dad.

"You really have to back off of Brenda. It's not her fault that Robin was kidnapped."

"I know," Patrick said softly. "I don't know why I keep picking away at her. It's oddly comforting."

"We're going to find her."

Patrick looked at his dad and nodded slowly. "I know." His voice was barely above a whisper. He took a small scoop of peanut butter from the jar and licked his spoon clean. "I can't believe it's only been a week since I've seen her. Everything feels different. I feel different." He let out a long sigh. "I just hope I know what to do with all of this, whatever, once she comes back to me. I have no idea what I'm doing."

Noah looked at his son thoughtfully. "Did I ever tell you about the moment I realized I was in love with your mother?"

"No, I don't think we ever had that girly conversation, Dad."

Noah laughed. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"Mom did always tell me you were an idiot, and lucky that she agreed to marry you."

Noah smiled at the memory. "I had convinced myself that love was not something I really wanted to get involved in or deal with. Sound familiar?"

"And then you met Mom."

"Yes, and I was still convinced I would not fall in love. Like she said, I was an idiot. We'd been together for a few months, during which time I tried vainly to prove to everyone around that this was strictly casual, not a relationship in any sense of the word - probably mostly for my own benefit. And then one day she asked me to help her make the bed."

"Is this story going anywhere?" Patrick held up his spoon innocently at his father's glare.

"So, we pulled out the bottom sheet and proceeded to have a 30 minute argument over the right way to put the sheet on. I insisted there was a right way to do it and she insisted it didn't matter which corner went where." Noah paused, reliving the memory. "For 30 minutes we fought over how to make a bed. Your mom thought the whole thing was hysterically funny and the more she laughed the angrier I got, until I had finally pushed her over the edge and she yelled at me, _'Noah Drake you are a complete jerk!'_ And without hesitation I yelled back, _'Oh yeah? Well I love you!'_ Shocked the hell out of her, and me." Noah grabbed a big spoonful of peanut butter and licked it, he and Patrick each lost in their own thoughts. "She was the best thing that ever happened to me, my destiny maybe, and not even I could screw that up. No matter how hard I tried, the fact that I was in love with her just came bubbling out. So don't worry about trying to do the right thing or the wrong thing. Just love her."

* * *

Sean leaned back in his large, leather chair and let out a long, slow breath. "Where are you Robert?" he whispered.

_"Sean, I need your help. Robin's in danger." _

Robert's call had come in on a beautiful spring evening. The kind that rarely came to Boston in April; one that promised summer was on the way. It wasn't as surprising a call as it could have been. Sean did, after all, know Robert was alive. He was the only one from Robert's past who had been privy to that information.

_"The WSB has her in their sights. I can't let them get her caught up in this world." _

It didn't seem possible on the surface. After all, what use could the WSB possibly have for a doctor? Then Robert went into the specifics. Robin's research with a drug cocktail was producing unwanted side effects. Unwanted for everyone but the WSB. The distorted fear Robin's protocol produced was ideal for a spy agency. The ability to use distorted fear when questioning suspects or even terrorists? To control agents? It was a priceless discovery and there were a lot of people out there willing to kill for it.

_"If they've got this on their radar it's only a matter of time until the DVX discovers it." _

Sean's fingers picked at the armrest. Using that Carroux idiot to shut her program down in Paris was the perfect cover. What they hadn't counted on was Dr. Laurent picking up where Robin had left off and then drawing her back in. They also hadn't counted on the DVX and god knows who else catching on so quickly, before they could move in again.

The encephalitis outbreak in Port Charles had brought Robert back into Robin's world. Staying out of her life at that point seemed more dangerous than diving back in. Robert had secretly wondered if the outbreak had been linked in any way to the distorted fear formula. It didn't seem to be at the time, but now Sean wasn't so sure. A week before Robin disappeared, Robert got a lead and he went undercover deep in Eastern Europe. A gypsy in Romania told Robert that his daughter had been kidnapped – and Sean had taken his frantic call six hours before Anna had phoned him with the same news. Working on the fly, Sean had made the call to pull out Robin's girlfriend Brenda. Besides the fragmented bits of intel that insinuated that the people closest to Robin were in danger, he figured having Brenda could come in handy when trying to keep a tight rein on Anna and the group she had gathered. Sean sighed. This life just never got any easier.

* * *

Patrick and Noah wandered back into the large, open living room where everyone was still gathered, discussing next steps. Noah walked back to Anna, picking up the notebook he used to take notes in all of their brainstorming sessions. He got to work again.

"There's a mountain of information to go through on those hard drives," Alex stated. "It could take weeks to go through it all."

"Maybe we should start with the guard. See if we can get anything out of him first," Aidan said.

Patrick nodded his head. "I think Aidan is right. You want me to question the goon, Anna? I did really well with that Carroux character. Tell them Aidan."

"Oh yeah, you were bloody brilliant," Aidan deadpanned. "Let's try to remember that you are the neurosurgeon, and I am the investigator."

"You're still miffed that I was right about Heather Carmichael."

"Being just a brain surgeon is nothing to be ashamed of, Mate."

Brenda watched this from her chair. "What, so now you two have come up with a comedy routine? Where'd you find the time to work out all your bits?"

Before Patrick could make a snarky comeback, he stopped, thinking his ears were playing tricks on him. There was a slow persistent knocking coming from the front door. The others heard it too, all eyes trained on the door.

"Who else knows we're here, Anna?" Noah questioned.

"No one." The players all exchanged panicked looks. "Everyone, get in the other room. Now!" Anna pulled out her gun from the back of her pants and walked to the door silently. Aidan, gun drawn, followed her. With a nod of his head, he indicated he was ready, and Anna jerked open the door, gun drawn on their visitor. "Sean!" Anna lowered her gun and Sean quickly stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.

"How the hell did you know we were here man?" Aidan asked.

"I had you followed." Sean sighed and looked at his old friend. "I've had you followed for quite some time now. Anna, we need to talk."

* * *

Anna paced back and forth in front of the large stone fireplace. "So where is he, Sean?"

He couldn't look her in the eye. "I don't know."

"You don't know? He's your best friend, Sean. How did you lose him? He's the closest link we had to my daughter!" The rest of the group sat silently, unsure what to do. Noah fought the urge to put his arms around Anna to hold her tight; keep her still.

"He missed three protocol checks. You're aware as well as I am, that this means he was probably compromised. We can assume, best case scenario, whoever has Robin now has Robert."

"Which means she's not alone. She's got her father with her. That's good, right?" Patrick looked from Anna to Aidan, questioningly.

"That's best case, Patrick. Worst case – he's dead." Sean looked pointedly at the young doctor.

The silence that knowledge triggered was deafening. Noah cleared his throat. "Why in the world was the WSB watching Robin?" Noah asked.

"Because of me."

This time Noah didn't fight the urge to touch Anna. He walked over to her and put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in for a hug, kissing the top of her head gently.

Sean watched the touching scene without feeling. "Robin, being Robert and Anna's daughter, will always be of interest to both the WSB and DVX. Both will always be interested in how she could be used as a pawn. It's not fair, but that's life when your parents are international spies with a history like Devane and Scorpio."

"Sean that's enough," Noah charged. "This is not Anna's fault."

"I'm simply stating the facts, Dr. Drake. You know nothing about this."

Patrick sat there, stunned. A vibration on his hip jogged him out of his reverie. He looked down at his Blackberry to see Robin had gotten an email. "Hey," Patrick shouted. The arguing continued on around him and he grew more frustrated. Leaping up from his chair, he slammed the notebook Noah had been taking notes in on the coffee table. "Hey!"

Everyone stopped and looked at Patrick in surprise.

"Robin just got an email. From the late, great, _dead_ Dr. Laurent. She wants to set up a meeting."

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

_

* * *

_

_I didn't think it would be so hard working with Patrick now that we've ended our affair, but, god, it is. It's not that he's throwing other women in my face or being difficult like in the past. In fact, he's being nice and respectful. Which makes it not only hard, it makes it weird. What's so hard is that I long for him. It's no one thing, it's a lot of little everythings that I never really stopped to categorize before. There's his hands, his magical, amazing, healing hands. Something about them just drive me wild. His wrists, especially when he wears a watch. The way he tilts his head when he reads a file. His neck when he's angry or passionate about something, the way that vein pops out that I want and have run my tongue over. His hair – I've haven't seen a guy who changes his hair so much since the guys I took dance class with in Paris. Every day I wonder what it's going to look like and how much product he's going to shove in it. Then there's the line of him, he's thin, but it doesn't make him seem weak. He's strong. A lot stronger than a lot of men I've known. Except when it comes to his heart. Not that I mean love, or anything, I meant about emotions, feelings, in general. Not that I particularly have feelings for him either. I mean I care. It's just that I…It's just hard. But I'll get over it, over him, soon. I'm sure. What choice do I have? _

_

* * *

_

"You sure about wanting to do this?" Anna asked Brenda as she continued to glue small transmitters to her torso. Most would pick up sound and one would act as a homing beacon if need be. All were wireless.

"You don't even need to ask that, Anna. You know that. And other than you I look the most like Robin and, frankly, I'd rather have you covering my back."

Anna and Brenda were alone in one of the bedrooms of the new house they had moved to in the middle of the night after Sean Donely had shown up, proving that their location had been compromised.

"I'm worried about her, Anna." Brenda whispered as she buttoned up the blue-button down shirt she was pairing with fitted black slacks and low, for her and Robin, black heels. Herlls she could run in over the cobblestone streets if need be. "I've never been so worried."

"Which is why you're out there verbally sparring with Robin's Patrick," Anna said matter-of-factly as she tested the homing beacon GPS.

"I hate what he put Robin through." Brenda sighed and sat down on the bed next to the equipment. "And this…I trusted her with him. I trusted him to take care of her."

Anna looked up. "If he had been there they likely would have killed him. They wanted her, plain and simple. This isn't his fault."

"I know. I know." Brenda pulled her sleeves over her wrists and grasped them in her hands and nervously toyed with them. "He's good for her. He loves her. I just…"

"Want to blame someone. Then blame the people who took Robin, not Patrick." Anna raised her eyebrows at Brenda, waiting until she nodded. "She's alive, if she wasn't alive the WSB wouldn't have bothered to hide you so that you couldn't be used against Robin."

"So, they got Robert instead. I'm sorry, I know you're worried about them both." Brenda put her hand on Anna's arm and the two women shared a knowing look. Then Brenda stood up and grabbed her black suit jacket. "Enough of that." She buttoned up the coat and nodded her head. "Let's get this show on the road. Where's that devastatingly sexy nephew of yours?

_

* * *

_

Brenda toyed with the hat that Aidan handed her. "Robin would not wear this. No one with taste would wear this." Her lips pursed into a moue of disgust.

"We're fairly certain the person you're meeting with has no knowledge of Robin's taste in hats. We want to disguise your face as much as possible for as long as possible." He took the hat and plopped it on her head. "Besides, this is not a fashion show."

"What did you think of the fashion show? All those models?" Brenda straightened the hat as Aidan ran the electronic wand over her body to make sure the signals were properly masked in case she was scanned during the meet. When he was done she straightened her posture, made it less girl-like than her normal pose; more Robin. "Now, do I look like Robin from a distance?"

Aidan stepped back a couple of feet and ran his eyes up and down Brenda's body a couple of times. She felt a surprising frission of arousal at his gaze and frowned.

"You'll do," Aidan said.

"Great." She looked down, pretending to straighten her jacket so that she could compose herself before she looked into those sharp eyes again.

"Let's run through it again."

_

* * *

_

"You sure we can rely on her to do this?" Patrick asked Aidan as he drove them to a bus stop on the south side of the city where they were going to get on one bus that took them past the meeting point so that they could circle back around to it and scope out the area. Sean and a couple of his trusted men and Noah, Anna and Alex were doing the same from other directions. Brenda, meanwhile, had checked into a hotel as Robin Scorpio using the false identification Sean had procured. She was going to be going to the meeting site seemingly alone in a taxi from the hotel, except that the taxi driver was going to be an armed Patrick in a wired car made up like a licensed taxi.

"She loves Robin."

"I'm not challenging that. She just seems flighty and shallow. I can't even imagine her and Robin being friends."

"And you and Robin were an obvious match."

"No. I guess we weren't." Patrick looked out the car window.

"You know what they say, opposites attract." Aidan glanced at Patrick who didn't respond. "Brenda is going to do just fine, she's a smart woman. Any new emails?"

Patrick took his Blackberry out of his pocket and scrolled through Robin's emails. "Nothing new." He put it back into his pocket, making sure first that it was on vibrate. "You don't think they're on to us by now, do you?"

"There's no way to know. I know the waiting is hard."

"Hard." Patrick leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "Doesn't even begin to describe this." He swallowed. "Let's run through my part one more time."

_

* * *

_

"Race car driver, hmmm?" Brenda said from the backseat of the fake taxi Patrick was driving.

Patrick, his heart still in his throat from his first sight of "Robin" standing with the doorman who hailed him, just grunted.

"If you're any good at this cab driving Robin and I will have to take you to Milan with us while we do our retail therapy."

"Wonderful," Patrick intoned.

"Of course, you'd probably want to do your shopping in another city entirely." Brenda grinned, enjoying getting a rise out of Patrick. At least, she rationalized to herself, it kept him annoyed with her and kept the too serious look of worry off his handsome features. It was a kindness, really.

"I'm not much of a shopper." Patrick shook his head and reminded himself that this was to save Robin and slamming on the brakes to send her flying could really injure her and damage the mission.

"Oh come on, don't tell me that in your formative horn dog years you didn't go 'window shopping' in Amsterdam." Brenda snorted.

"Honey, I never had to pay for it."

"Personally, I don't see the attraction." Brenda turned her head so he couldn't see her smile in the rearview mirror.

"Somehow, I think I'll recover," he said dryly. "Do you think you can concentrate on the matter at hand now, instead of torturing me?"

"Torturing you relaxes me so that I can carry out my mission."

Patrick grunted and decided to ignore the back-seat nuisance and keep an eye out for the landmarks Anna had pointed out on the map.

Brenda smirked and ran through her lines in her head.

_

* * *

_

"She's getting out of the taxi now," Aidan reported over his wireless as he watched the petite, well-formed brunette make the simple activity look provocative. "Less catwalk, more clandestine meeting, Barrett," he murmured for her ears alone.

"Purrrrr."

"Barrett!"

She stiffened up into a more close approximation of her best friend. "Ten paces this way and I wait," she recited.

"Right. And I watch."

Brenda nodded at him, under the pretext of straightening her hat.

"Got it. I see you fine. I have you covered."

Minutes ticked by. "Robin" pretended to study a guide book as they waited, but Aidan could tell from the angle of her head that she was watching the people around her closely. He could tell the moment she clocked a woman coming towards her.

"All right folks, this could be her." Aidan gave a reassuring pat to his sidearm and put his binoculars to his eyes to watch. Something about the shape of the woman niggled at him as he watched her get closer to Brenda.

As soon as the person reached Brenda he realized what it was that was bothering him. "That's no woman!" he exclaimed over his wireless to Sean and Anna and moved in closer to his next mark.

_

* * *

_

Patrick sighed, his eyes darting to the car's clock every few seconds. He was stuck driving in an endless virtual loop around the area where the meet was set to happen. He wasn't allowed to have a wireless tuned in to what was going on in the ground in case they were being monitored or it accidentally crossed "wires" with another taxi or cop communicator. He hated being in the dark. And he hated driving this crappy sedan. At least they let him have a gun this time. Before he could let out another frustrated sigh his beeper went off.

_

* * *

_

"Dr. Robin Scorpio?"

Brenda looked up, her face deliberately in the shadows.

"Dr. Renee Laurent?"

"I'm as much Renee Laurent as you are Robin Scorpio." The aforesaid imposter grabbed Brenda and stuck a sharp point against her ribs. "Call off whoever is watching you!" he ordered.

Brenda struggled and gasped when the point was jabbed against her side, almost breaking skin. Her gasp echoed in Aidan's wireless as he leapt over the wall separating him from Brenda. Before he got there he heard the familiar woosh and the man in the dress holding Brenda captive clapped a hand to his neck where Anna's dart stuck him. Brenda pulled from his grasp just as Aidan grabbed the collapsing "woman" and put his arm under armpits and then his other arm around Brenda to make it look friendly.

He walked them over to the edge of the square and shoved the guy into the Patrick's taxi which had pulled up.

"Let's go!" Aidan grabbed Brenda in behind him and pulled the door closed behind her.

_

* * *

_

"How do we wake him up?" Brenda asked as Patrick shined the pen light in "Dr. Laurent's" eyes. She had shed her coat and unbuttoned the top buttons of her shirt and had put her glossy hair into a pony tail.

"He'll wake up himself in a few minutes. If not, we'll inject him with something," Aidan said. He put his hand on Brenda's back. "Why don't you go…"

"Uh uh. I'm not going anywhere, Aidan. I want to hear what this creep knows about Robin." She crossed her arms and tilted her chin up at the tall Englishman. "This asshole tried to stab me!"

"Fine, but let the professionals do the questioning. Both you and Patrick are on a short leash here, one word and I kick you both out."

"Don't lump me in with her," Patrick mumbled under his breath. "He's already starting to rouse. He'll need water."

"Taken care of." Sean put a glass of water down on the table next to the chair that the unknown man was tied to.

"Wow, look at you being so helpful," Patrick muttered under his breath, ignoring Aidan's threatening glare.

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen **

_

* * *

I thought it was weird when Patrick was being uber-polite to me after we stopped sleeping together, but compared to how he's acting now that was normal. I'm seriously considering asking Lainey to have a conversation with him to see if there's something wrong. For example, two days ago at the Neurology staff meeting Patrick stood up and thanked me for the work that I did helping one of his recent surgical patients. He said that the drug protocol that his patient was treated with prior to surgery made his job easier. You couldn't hear a pin drop after he was finished. Everyone was as shocked as I was. The next day he asked me to go to lunch with him, ostensibly to consult on a case file, but when we got to Kelly's he hadn't actually brought the file and when I said he could go back to the hospital to get it or we could eat in the cafeteria he said why don't we just kick back and relax. I got the feeling that he never really intended to bring the file. But I stayed and we had a great time. A lot like it used to be between us, but different. Almost like…and this may sound crazy…like he's courting me. Then there's the little touches, touches that I have to admit make my heart jump. Like today, I was finishing a fudge mocha bar on my way to the lab and Patrick happened to be there and he reached out and wiped smudge of mocha off my lip and then licked it off his finger, looking at me the entire time. It seemed so intimate. It set my entire nervous system racing. I blushed! I actually blushed and excused myself to go into the lab and hid out there for the rest of the day and into the evening. This is getting crazy, dangerous. I want to crawl back into his bed so bad even though I know it will end the same way – him running away and me having this hollow feeling inside. Okay, I'm just being crazy. He's just trying to mend our friendship and being his naturally flirty and charming self. I have to stop reading more into it._

* * *

"What do you plan on doing with me, you Soviet bastards?" The fake Dr. Laurent's eyes were wild as he surveyed the room. He laughed. "Oh, I'm sorry. I guess now technically it's Russkie bastards." His German accent was thick and beads of spit flew from his mouth when he spoke.

"What are you talking about?" Patrick put his hands on his hips and leaned towards him. They were all gathered in the basement of their latest safe house somewhere in Europe. Patrick had given up trying to remember where he was. The room was sparsely furnished with the one chair that their prisoner was sitting in, a folding chair leaning against the far wall and a long flimsy card table. There were only a couple of dim bulbs that still worked, throwing off a dingy yellow/orange glow sporadically around the room.

"Drake, back off." Sean glared at him from across the room, his face in shadows. The guy was in Anna's orbit for one week and already he considered himself a spy. Ridiculous. The kid continued to rub him the wrong way; he was definitely going to have to have a talk with Robin about her taste in men. Sean pulled himself away from the wall and slowly walked over to the man who tried to pass himself off as Laurent. He put his hands on the arms of the chair the fake doctor was sitting in and leaned forward, his face inches from the prisoner's. "Where is Dr. Scorpio?"

"You know I don't have her."

"I know nothing of the sort."

"You've got her and you're not going to let her go until she helps you kill even more innocent people!"

Sean stared blankly at the lanky "doctor" for a moment, then turned and gestured for Anna to follow him. "A word, Anna." She looked at him, nodded, and walked out of the darkened room ahead of him. Sean stopped and leaned in to Aidan. "Keep an eye on him," he whispered, his eyes flitting to their captive. "And that one over there," he added, nodding his head toward Patrick, wondering not for the first time why all these non-professionals needed to be in the room for this.

The fake Laurent's body sagged in the chair, his hands tied behind him. He looked broken. His long, stringy, dirty blonde hair hung limp around his face, and he shook his head to get it out of his sunken eyes, the dark circles under them a stark contrast to his pale skin. He reminded Patrick of all those granola doctorate candidates in the geology department back at Harvard. He never understood why anyone would pursue a higher degree in rocks. The fake Laurent looked pleadingly at Patrick. "You've already killed my brother and my fiancé. What else do you want from me?"

Patrick glanced at Aidan, unsure what the man was talking about.

"Just who do you think we are?" Patrick asked as he walked back over to the prisoner.

"Mate…" Aidan warned.

"Son, let's leave this to the professionals."

Patrick spun around and glared at his father. "Because they've done such a bang up job so far?" He turned back to "Laurent." "I'll ask you again, who do you think we are?"

The captive pulled back his shoulders as best he could with his hands tied behind him, trying to look confident, but his quivering lips gave away his terror. "I know you are DVX," he whispered. "I'm not afraid of you. There's nothing more you can do to me."

Brenda shook her head. "Buddy, you've got it all wrong. We are not DVX. We're the opposite of DVX."

"What the hell does that mean Brenda? The opposite of DVX?" Patrick looked at her, incredulous.

"We're the good guys you moron! How much clearer do I have to be?" Brenda couldn't believe she had to explain this to him. "Duh," she mumbled under her breath.

The imposter watched their bantering with a curious look on his face. "Who are you people?" he asked, his voice filled with wonder.

The door opened, and Sean and Anna walked back inside.

"We're looking for Dr. Robin Scorpio, but we've already asked you about that." Patrick started to pace in front of the prisoner. "She's been kidnapped and we believe the people who killed Dr. Laurent have her." Patrick stopped in front of "Laurent" and leaned in close. "And when you sent Robin an email as a dead woman, you can imagine it raised a few red flags."

Sean and Anna watched the scene before them silently.

A look of realization passed over the prisoner's features. "Dr. Robin Scorpio." The fake doctor nodded. "I knew of Dr. Scorpio's work. She was a brilliant doctor."

"What do you mean was? She _is_ a brilliant doctor!" Patrick's face turned red with fury.

Anna slowly walked over to Patrick and put her hand on his arm. "Patrick." Her eyes traveled to Noah who joined her by Patrick's side and put his hand on Patrick's shoulder to steady him. "It's okay. I'm sure our guest didn't mean anything by that."

The fake Laurent looked ruffled and shook his head vigorously. "No, I'm sorry. I meant nothing. I don't know anything about your Dr. Scorpio. I'm sorry."

Patrick shook off his dad's hand. "What's your name?" Patrick had a single goal now. Finding out what this guy knew and he'd gladly beat it out of him like he had his French doppleganger.

"Gregorio," he said softly. "Gregorio Mantz. I'm a scientist and I worked on Dr. Laurent's original team out of Switzerland."

Anna walked over to Mantz, dragging the folding chair with her and placing it in front of him and sat down. "Doctor, is it?" Mantz nodded and Anna continued. "Dr. Mantz, my name is Anna Devane and I believe we are on the same side here. Robin Scorpio is my daughter and she's very important to everyone in this room."

Sean cleared his throat from the other side of the room. "Dr. Mantz, you're going to need to explain to us why you were pretending to be your old boss."

Gregorio lowered his head, fat tears leaking from his eyes onto his legs. "She was an amazing woman. Renee ran a wonderful lab." He sniffed and looked up at them. "We were to be married next month." He swallowed hard and his whole body stiffened. "But they took her away from me. They took everything away from me. I need to stop them."

"Who took her away?" Patrick asked.

"Aidan, please untie Dr.Mantz," Anna said.

Aidan looked questioningly at Anna, but at her nod walked behind Mantz and untied his hands. He rubbed his wrists, his eyes darting back and forth between his captors before they settled on Patrick. "Thank you."

"Dr. Mantz, what exactly happened to your fiancée?" Aidan stole a quick glance at Brenda, who he noticed was biting her nails and watching Mantz intently.

"Renee consulted with Dr. Scorpio about a year ago regarding a drug protocol Dr. Scorpio was working on. One of the unwanted side effects was, unfortunately, a condition called distorted fear. Renee is…was something of an expert in this field. After Dr. Scorpio's program was shut down Renee continued to work on the problem, thinking it could possibly help with some of her other work in the subject. About six months ago she was contacted by someone claiming to be with a large pharmaceutical company, interested in her progress."

"What company?" Patrick asked.

"Cryllium Industries."

The gang looked at each other.

Patrick ran a hand through his hair. "I don't fucking believe this!"

"Wait, the pharmaceutical company responsible for the encephalitis outbreak?" Noah looked from Sean to Anna.

"The one and only." Patrick ran both hands through his hair. "Nearly killing her once wasn't enough apparently."

"I don't think Cryllium is just a pharmaceutical company," Mantz said softly. "A few weeks ago Renee told me that she suspected that these people were not who they said they were and that they were trying to create distorted fear and not eliminate it."

"Bloody hell," Aidan said under his breath. "Cryllium Industries is DVX."

Noah looked around for a chair. He needed to sit down for this. "Is that even possible?"

Sean shook his head and laughed. "It's starting to look that way." His eyes locked with Anna's.

The room was silent for a moment before Anna urged Mantz to continue with his story.

"When the initial call came in Renee was thrilled. She was so excited to revisit the work Dr. Scorpio had begun. I was working on another assignment and could not continue with her project, so I suggested my brother Dietrich." He laughed. "It's my fault he's dead." Silently he bent over, putting his head in his hands. "When she began to suspect that these people were not who they said they were she started fixing the results. Slowed down her progress." He paused. "Then they got angry."

Patrick and Brenda shared a terrified look.

Emotionally, Mantz continued. "She begged them not to test the serum. Told them it wasn't ready. Would never be ready. But they took the compound and set up their own trials using both volunteers, and those who were not as….excited to be participants. My brother. One of the lab security guards. The girl at the reception desk. They all died from physical complications. Heart attacks for my brother and the security guard. The girl had a stroke. A 23 year old healthy woman, dead due to complications from a stroke." Mantz stopped for a moment, his face screwing up in anguish. "And then they forced her to become a trial patient as well," he sobbed. "Renee was not quite as lucky. Death didn't come quickly. Instead she slowly went insane. Terrified by the distorted fears her compound created." He looked over at Patrick. "I'm afraid your Dr. Scorpio may have already become a victim as well."

"My God…" tears ran down Brenda's face as she looked over at Patrick to see how he was reacting. Noah had moved closer to him, keeping his eyes on Anna.

"But you don't know for sure," Patrick said. "You have no proof that she's hurt!"

"No, but I'm afraid it's only a matter of time. They gave Renee only a few weeks before they started testing her protocol on live subjects."

"I need to – um – I just," Patrick licked his lips to stop his babbling and looked at the ceiling. "I need to get some air." He turned and darted out of the room.

Noah started to go after him until Brenda placed her hand on his arm. "Noah, let me go."

Noah walked over to Anna and watched Brenda walk out of the room and after his son. Quietly, he took Anna's hand.

Aidan spoke up. "Where is this lab? We can put together a team, take them out. It must be where Robin is."

"It's not." Mantz's voice was stronger now, angry. "They sent Renee away after injecting her with the serum. After she died I went to the lab, but there was nothing there. No sign a lab had ever existed."

"Typical protocol," Sean stated matter-of-factly. His unemotional tone infuriated Noah and he squeezed Anna's hand.

"Renee talked about other labs that Cryllium ran. They were all over the world: Munich, London, Paris, Amsterdam, Moscow." Mindlessly, Mantz rubbed his wrists as he threw out all the different cities Robin and her lab could be. "There are others out there desperate for the serum," Mantz threw out. "I think it's one of the reasons why they keep moving."

"And that just might work to our advantage," Sean said. "It could be the one thing that makes the DVX sloppy and distracted."

* * *

Patrick sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his face, Mantz's words ringing in his head. What if they had begun testing her protocol on her? What if she was slowly being terrorized by her fears and there was nothing he could do to stop it? He shook his head, trying to get the thoughts out. His eyes fell to the two journals on the nightstand. He picked up the black leather journal, still wrapped in plastic and broke open the packaging. Searching the drawer for a pen he opened the book to the first sheet and began writing, the words spilling onto the page.

_Robin seems to think this writing down your feelings thing works, so I'm going to give it a chance. Honestly, at this point I'll do anything to try to calm my mind and ease my fears…. _

Brenda looked through the half closed door and saw Patrick on the bed, hunched over and writing furiously. Curious, she gently pushed the door open and stepped inside. "Hey," she said quietly.

Patrick looked up and closed the book leaving his pen inside to mark his page. "Hey."

Brenda leaned against the door frame and nodded at the journal. "What are you doing?"

He laughed and held it up. "Thought I'd try writing down my feelings since verbalizing them doesn't always go so well."

Brenda made a surprised face. "Really?"

"Yeah. Thought I'd take a page out of Robin's book – no pun intended - and try this journal thing."

Brenda slowly walked over to the bed and sat beside Patrick. "She's been writing in a journal for years – ever since I met her. She must have dozens filled." Brenda glanced over at him. "She's never let me look at them though."

Patrick laughed again. "Yeah, well, I didn't actually ask for permission." He glanced over at the journal still on the night stand and pulled it onto his lap. "I started reading it for clues, but now I read it because it makes me feel closer to her. I can actually hear her talking to me."

Brenda looked at him for a long moment, his crumpled face breaking her heart. She reached over and took his hand in hers, staring out in front of her. Patrick looked down at his hand in Brenda's tiny one and swallowed hard.

They sat like that together silently, each lost in their own thoughts until finally Brenda gave his hand a squeeze.

"I just wish we had an inkling as to where Robin was." Brenda stood and walked over to the window. Using two fingers she pried the blinds open to take a peek outside. The fact that it was a beautiful day, the sun shining bright in the clear blue sky, didn't seem to make sense. She snapped shut the small opening she had created and turned to face Patrick. "So, what do you think we should all do after we find Robin?" Brenda looked at him expectantly. "Because we'll have to do something really great to celebrate."

Patrick smiled despite himself. "Well what I have planned for her really only involves the two of us. Unless you like to watch."

"You wish Dr. Hottie." She smiled back at him. "So after that five minutes you've got planned-"

"Ouch."

"We'll need to do something special. Maybe we will take you shopping with us."

"_Long trip 4 wndw shppng._" Patrick looked down at his hands. He had memorized that first nonsensical text message days ago.

Brenda walked over to the bed again and sat down. "You know, Robin and I had an inside joke about window shopping. I had a boyfriend who tried to convince us to take a weekend trip to Amsterdam to do some real window shopping. He was hoping for a little red light action. Speaking of watching, I think that's what he was hoping for."

"He sounds charming," Patrick said, his mind whirring. Brenda had made the allusion to Amsterdam when he was driving the taxi earlier that morning, then he had forgotten all about it. What if…

"Yeah he was a real perv. Actually we called him Paolo the Perv. He didn't last very long, but Robin and I still laugh about him. I couldn't say the words 'window shopping' for a good couple of months without her falling into hysterics."

The sudden vibration on his hip made Patrick jump as he whipped the Blackberry from it's case attached to his belt loop.

"What is it?" Brenda tried to see what he was looking at on the tiny screen.

"_Get 2 chrch on time_," Patrick stared into space, his brain struggling to make sense of the message.

"Do you think that's from Robin?" Brenda waved a hand in front of Patrick's face and got no response. "Patrick? Okay does even the mere mention of getting to a church on time throw you into a complete panic?"

"What?" His eyes flickered over to her as he stood up. "No, Brenda, I think this is a clue. I think I've finally figured out where Robin is."

* * *

Patrick and Brenda ran into the kitchen, where Anna, Noah, Aidan and Alex were gathered around the table.

" Amsterdam. I think Robin's in Amsterdam," Patrick exclaimed.

"Patrick, what are you talking about?" Anna asked.

"I just got another text message. '_Get 2 chrch on time'_," Patrick looked at Noah. "Couple that with '_Long trip 4 wndw shppng_' which, thanks to Brenda, I think refers to Amsterdam's red light district."

"It's a long story," Brenda said to the inquisitive looks.

"Dad – Amsterdam, church, red light district…"

"Oude Kerk," Noah whispered.

Patrick nodded. "Oude Kerk."

"What the bloody hell are you two talking about?" Aidan looked from one Drake to the other, completely befuddled. It was like they were speaking a different language.

"My wife was an architect-junkie. I think we've already established that." Noah looked at Anna shyly and then looked down. "We took a European vacation when Patrick was a teenager, and one of our stops was Amsterdam. Mattie was thrilled to check out all of the castles and medieval churches. She had read about one in particular that interested her."

"Oude Kerk," Patrick interjected.

Noah nodded. "Oude Kerk. It's the oldest church in Amsterdam, and a real architectural marvel."

"The one thing she didn't realize is that it's smack dab in the middle of the red light district." Patrick smiled at the memory. "You should have seen my mother's face when we walked through Old Centre Amsterdam, past the Prostitution Info Centre…"

Noah laughed. "She was mortified."

"We should talk to Mantz. See if Amsterdam jogs his memory." Anna left the kitchen to find Sean and Mantz who had moved into the small office down the hall, trying to come up with a plan of attack based on the bits of information that Mantz had.

"This has got to be it," Patrick said to no one in particular.

* * *

Anna knocked on the closed door and then quickly threw it open, startling Sean and Mantz who had been huddled together. "What do you know about Amsterdam?" Anna fixed a stare on their new friend.

Mantz racked his brain, searching for a memory, anything. "Well, Renee did mention a lab, underneath a church." He looked up at Anna and blushed. "It's in the red light district."

Anna looked at Sean. "Looks like we're headed to Amsterdam."

* * *

It was late afternoon and the sun was just setting, making the sky a dusty gray. There was already a glow permeating from the shops and red lights shone from many of the windows up and down the street. The modern red lights were a stark contrast to the cobblestone streets and brick and stone buildings. Every few yards was a new shop window with another girl advertising her wares. There was the school girl sitting on the teacher's desk who uncrossed her legs to reveal she wasn't wearing any underwear as Patrick walked by. There was the punk girl with a bright pink and purple Mohawk and piercings and tattoos in places Patrick didn't know a needle could get to. Fat women, skinny women, black women, white women, two women who didn't look like they needed or wanted a male client to interrupt them. The choices were endless.

The streets were almost bustling – a combination of older men with their eyes darting around and heads lowered, and young, excited teenage boys who seemed to travel in packs. He couldn't imagine Robin in this environment, but then again it wasnn't like she had chosen this place. Patrick swallowed thickly. It would end tonight. He'd bring Robin home tonight if it was the last thing he did. Pausing, he went over the plan in his head one last time.

"Hang on Adventure Girl. I'm almost there." He looked up at the ornate brass sign reading "Marry in haste, repent at leisure" poised above the bright red door of the church, let out a deep breath, and stepped inside.

_

* * *

_

_TBC _


	18. Chapter 18

**Thanks for all the wonderful feedback. We hope you love this part. **

**Chapter Eighteen**

**

* * *

**_After I walked away from us she called me a coward. It stung, but I chalked it up to another of Robin Scorpio's numerous defense mechanisms. Takes one to know one, right? Something kept ringing false no matter how many times I told myself that I know what I want and who I am and that being in a committed relationship wasn't what I wanted. When that didn't work I reminded myself of what an inherently self-involved man I was and how important my career and reputation were and that they were all I had the time and energy for. In the next breath I'd tell myself and anyone who would listen that I couldn't give a woman like Robin what she needed and I was doing was actually the noble thing by walking away before she got in any deeper. That all I was feeling was simple caring and professional admiration. Hell, even gratitude for all she did for me in saving my father's life and my own. Truth is I was too scared to be honest and now all I can see is the time I wasted.

* * *

_

Time.

In one way or another the measure of time had been Robin's enemy.

There was the time her parents were away from her – too long.

There was the time she had with Stone – too short.

There was the time she needed to complete her studies or some experiment – never enough.

There was the time she had left in her live with the ticking _time_ bomb of HIV in her system –too short.

Now, there was simply too much time stretching in an endless line before her.

There was always the old stand by of hope, but it was hard to come by and getting harder every minute. Time again.

She closed her eyes and tried to pretend she was somewhere else. Somewhere not in this sterile, underground lab where she is being forced to spend endless days trying to solve the unsolvable; where if she solves it she will be empowering the evil that holds her – and anyone else who gets their hands on it – to further their twisted agenda.

If she were free to choose she would have eliminated the enemy of time. She would have fought to not go along; she would work harder to escape.

Or she would simply end her own life.

It would be easy. She could mix up a compound from the materials she was forced to work with into a lethal dose. Or she could stop taking her protocol and let time finally do its job.

She couldn't.

If she tilted her head just so she could swear she could smell Patrick's aftershave. The thought of him stabbed at her. He was like a limb that had been removed and she could still feel the ghost of it haunting her. He was one of the reasons none of those options were to be taken and why she was still sitting here in this lab slaving away. Or pretending to.

"Open your eyes!" A voice snapped out, a hand slammed down on a metal table behind her.

Not startled, Dr. Robin Scorpio, MD took her time opening her eyes. She knew the sounds of this room that she was stuck in for sometimes eighteen or more hours at a time. She knew every hum and click. Even lost in her thoughts of Patrick she had heard the screech of the metal door and the click of footsteps over the metal floor.

Her eyes open, she turned and looked into the furious face of Dopey, as she had nicknamed this captor.

The first thing she noticed when she was taken and delivered here was that they didn't hide their faces. It erased any question whether they ever intended to let her go alive.

"We told you what we would do if you didn't cooperate!" His dark eyes were the same color as Patrick's, but they were filled with a dispassionate and evil rage that the man she loved would never feel.

Or maybe he would, Robin thought, shivering at the memory of the images of Patrick taken after she had left that they had shown her.

"I'm working as hard and as fast as I can, you know that."

"Fuck the work!" the man swept her vials off the table and leaned across and grabbed her by the hair. "You've hacked through the pharmacology database you claimed you had to have and sent messages. We've tracked you and those childish messages." He pulled her closer, over the table. "Now, we've used them to our advantage."

Tears came to Robin's eyes from the pain, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of verbalizing her pain or begging to be released from it. She knew that it would do no good.

"Seeing your father tortured before your eyes was not enough incentive. It's time to try something else."

"No!" Now she did cry out, not for herself, but for whomever it was she loved that they would hurt to punish her.

The dark-suited man said nothing just walked around the table, still pulling Robin by the hair and pulling her out of the lab into a small room built much like the lab with a metal floor and walls, except the only item in the room was a big screen filling one wall.

"No! Leave my father alone. Please." She cried out, trying to pull away from him as the door clanged shut behind her. "I won't do it again." The sound and image of seeing her father tortured filled her body with terror.

"Is that what you choose?"

"Yes, yes. I won't send the messages anymore. Leave my father alone. Please."

"Fine. We'll leave your father alone." He threw her into the room. She stumbled and fell onto the floor. He walked slowly behind her. The fluorescent lights glowing from the ceiling went off and the wall screen came on. "But there will be no more messages because there will be no one to send them to anymore."

Her body began to shake uncontrollably.

Her apartment had been invaded. She had been threatened and shown photos to prove they could get to her loved ones at any time to get her to come along with them quietly. She had driven a long distance, traveled on three planes, another ground ride, this time blindfolded. She had been drugged, threatened and manhandled. She had been locked in a lab and ordered to turn a therapeutic drug combination she had created into a weapon. She had her father captured and paraded in front of her bruised and bloodied as a threat to make her work better and faster. Through it all she had held it together. She was a Devane-Scorpio, after all.

But this, this might be too much.

Bruising fingers closed on her chin, turning her head to face the screen that flashed on.

"NO!" she gasped as the image of Patrick filled the wall. Her eyes dragged over his lithe form, her fingers tingled to touch him, her body ached to be filled by him. Her breathing became ragged.

She saw his lips move almost in a silent prayer fitting to the church he was about to enter. The camera panned up to the ornate brass sign reading "Marry in haste, repent at leisure" poised above the bright red door of the church. She watched as he steeled himself and opened the door and quickly slipped inside.

Then nothing but a shot of the red door.

Then there was a loud boom coming from all sides of the room and then a flash. Then a loud rumbling and crash after crash. Debris flying into the camera lens.

Pain radiated through her body. She couldn't hold back anymore. She began to scream.

"No. No. No. No. No. No."

"You did this," he told her tonelessly.

"No. No. No. No. No. No."

"Your mother is next if you don't behave. Then your father. Then your pretty friend Brenda Barrett. Then your Uncle Mac. Your dead loverboy's father. Then Georgie. Then Maxie. Then Cameron Smith Spencer. Then Nikolas Cassadine and his little boy. Then, well, the list goes on and on doesn't it. All those people you care about just waiting to die for your disobedience."

The threats permeated her horror and she stiffened and bit back her cries. "This is a trick. It's a lie," Robin rasped. Tears were streaming down her face. She held her back straight through sheer will. The will not to be broken. The will not to believe.

"Change it."

The screen changed to a local news report showing **_resideren video_. The scene was the burning church they had just watched explode. Fire crews. Police. Smoke. Flames. Debris. They could fake this, she knew, but she didn't think they would bother.**

**Something inside Robin snapped.**

**"**No! No! No! No! No! No!" She launched herself uselessly at the larger man who flung her like a butterfly onto the floor. She stayed where she landed. Her cries turned into a haunting keen of grief. It filled and echoed around the room.

The man stood over her impassively.

"You have fifteen minutes to grieve. Then get back to work or we kill your next loved one. Maybe we'll have you kill your father yourself?" He walked around her, leaving her crouched on the floor. "We can get to any of them. At any time. Remember that."


	19. Chapter 19

**Nineteen**

* * *

_Finally a break. We're on a WSB charter jet, headed to Amsterdam and Robin. Oude Kerk. The irony is that Robin may be being held in, or rather underneath, one of my mother's favorite architectural marvels…Anyway, I was so exhausted that I actually fell asleep after takeoff and I had the oddest dream. My mother put her hand on my shoulder and whispered in my ear, "I'm looking out for her." Then I felt my head jerk and I woke up, my head nearly on my dad's shoulder and, he claimed, a puddle of my drool on his arm. It's ridiculous really, but in a strange way it gave me a sense of calm to be surrounded by my parents. _

_We're so close now. I'm so close to having Robin back in my arms, so close to being able to tell her how I really feel. Actually, do I really have to say the words out loud? Still pretty nauseous about that whole love thing. _

_Oh. Here's Sean, wanting to go over the plan one more time. Honestly, what's so hard about going through the front door of a church and asking to speak to the man in charge?_

* * *

The explosion rattled the windows of the old shop.

"Dammit." Sean ran a hand through his thinning hair, his face red with anger and, if he was honest with himself, fear.

He and Mantz were alone at their base of operations, a Dutch chocolate shop called _Het Huishouden een Bonbon_ or, as the French like to say, _Ménage -a-Chocolate_. Mantz had discovered it, and as it was located down the street from Oude Kerk they had all agreed it was the perfect location to base their rescue mission, the décor of chocolate penises and breasts notwithstanding. Not to mention the 3-D chocolate ménage-a-trois the shop was apparently famous for. Fortunately, the owner hadn't flinched when Sean had offered him a fistful of cash to close early and allow them full access. Being Amsterdam he hadn't asked one question before handing over the keys and leaving them alone in the cocoa porn shop.

"Anna, do you copy me?" Sean spoke urgently into his headset.

"My God," Mantz cried and ran over to the front window and looked outside, trying to spot the stark outline of the Oude Kerk. "What's happened? Where is it?"

Sean gave the doctor a quick glance before he retreated to the counter in the corner where the communication equipment was set up. "It looks like we may have a slight problem. Patrick may have tripped an alarm or someone figured out we were coming," he explained as he tried to get a reading or a connection to Patrick's device.

Sean's headset crackled and a faint voice came through. "Sean, it's Anna. The whole church….it's gone."

"What do you mean it's gone?" Hearing Sean's panicked tone, Mantz rushed over to him and leaned in, listening to the report coming in from the church perimeter.

"There was an explosion just seconds after Patrick entered." Mantz and Donelly could hear Noah in the background, screaming for his son. Sean closed his eyes, his face paling.

"Aidan and Brenda went in from the back, I haven't been able to get a hold of either of them yet….I don't know…"

"Anna, you need to get out of there," Sean was desperate to get through to his friend. "It's not safe. Come back here and we'll put a rescue plan together."

"Sean, I can't leave them here. And Robin…she's under that rubble. We're going in." With that, the line went dead.

"Anna? Anna!" Sean yelled, throwing his ear piece onto the counter.

"The DVX. They've won again." Mantz's head lolled down, the picture of a broken man. He grabbed his head with both hands and started to pace back to the front of the store.

Sean pulled the laptop closer, his back to Mantz, and began frantically typing. "Don't be so sure about that. This isn't over."

"Oh, but it is," Mantz said tearfully. "They will always win. Everyone dies." Tears streamed down his face as he shot a quick glance over his shoulder to see the aging spy's back still facing him. And then a smile began to form.

Mantz felt in his pocket for the piano wire he'd stashed there and grinned a smile of pure evil. Piano wire. It was so 1940's film noir, but it was effective and far quieter than the 9mm Glock he'd hidden in the empty chocolate vat in the back room. Morons. They had let him wander around unsupervised from the moment they had untied him back in Geneva – they really hadn't proven to be much of a challenge, taking in his sob story like it was candy.

"If only I hadn't remembered that lab in Oude Kerk. Your friends would still be alive." Mantz slithered across the room as he wailed his pathetic lament.

"It's not your fault, Dr. Mantz. We're professionals. We knew what we were getting into." Sean continued to type, seemingly not noticing the other man's movements behind his back.

"_Professionals,_" Mantz thought, rolling his eyes and slowly working his way back towards Sean. Inches away, Mantz lifted his arms in the air, the wire stretched taut. His smile widened. "It's just such a shame…"

Sean twirled around, gun trained on Mantz. "It is a shame that you think we are just _that_ stupid." The malevolence of Sean's smile outdoing the greasy little man's pathetic attempt at it.

The look of shock on Mantz's face made Sean laugh. "Put your arms down and throw me that wire, you…what did you call your brethren? Oh yes, you Russkie bastard."

Mantz's face twisted into a grimace. "You think you're so smart, Donnelly? You sent that arrogant doctor to his death. You WSB are so predictable. Show a little emotion and you'll fall for anything."

Sean cocked his gun and stared at the madman silently.

"You're not scaring me." Moving at a snail's pace, Mantz slid next to a free standing cake case, showcasing confections in shapes Sean had never seen before. "You fools…" With that, Mantz pushed the case over, the glass shattering inches in front of Sean.

Sean squeezed the trigger, his shot just missing the DVX operative as Mantz dove on the ground, rolling towards the swinging doors that lead to the back room and his gun. As Mantz rolled one more time and sprung to his feet, Aidan ran through the swinging doors, Mantz's own 9mm ironically trained on him.

"Looking for this, Mate?"

Mantz slowly raised his arms. "From that look on your face I'm guessing, yes." Brenda walked in behind Aidan, a single streak of soot on her left cheek.

The front door swung open. The tiny bell above it rang, normally an alert for the shopkeeper that a new customer was waiting. This time, however, Sean, Brenda and Aidan looked over to see Anna, her arm wrapped tightly around Noah's waist, limp inside. Noah's face was pale, his clothes torn and filthy, his dirty face streaked with tears. As he brought a bloodied hand up to his face, Brenda gasped, thinking it was obvious he'd been digging in the rubble for his son.

"Patrick?" Aidan let the question hang in the air. Anna simply shook her head no.

"Noah-" Brenda choked and then stopped. What was she supposed to say to a man who had just lost his son? She ran over to help Anna with the distraught elder Drake.

Aidan's jaw tightened and he used his gun to gesture to the man who arranged for the murder of his friend. "You. In the back. We need to have a little talk."

* * *

Aidan pulled out the piano wire and waved it in front of Mantz's face. "I think it's only fitting that we tie you up with this." He grabbed the DVX agent's wrists and tied the piano wire tight around them, attaching him to the giant mixer in the back room of the chocolatier.

Brenda picked up a chocolate penis and bit the head off. Sean catching the sight out of the corner of his eye winced visibly. "You pissed off the wrong people, Mate." The sweet liqueur squirted out of the tip onto her chin and she wiped it off with her middle finger and then licked the digit clean.

Aidan looked up at her use of the British phrase, in time to see her enjoy the cordial. He shot her a flirty grin, then he turned in time of see Alex come up the stairs that led to the storage room with a large needle in her hand.

"Dr. Mantz, this is my aunt, Dr. Devane-Merrick. I believe your people are familiar with her work. You've been targeting her as well, haven't you?" Aidan said. Mantz was silent, his eyes on the needle.

Anna walked in from the other side, Noah behind her, satisfied to see the prisoner glance back and forth between the two women with unconcealed fear. "My sister is very good with serums." She stopped and laughed. "I'm sorry. Again, you probably already knew that. What you don't know is that she mixed up a special one just for you. Us Devanes just don't like anyone trying to make fools of us. Why don't you tell Dr. Mantz what we've got in store for him, Alex?"

Alex smiled. "Why Anna, I'd be happy to." She walked up to the DVX agent and stuck the needle into his neck with one swift motion. Agent Mantz's body jerked and he cried out in pain. "This, my friend, will kill you if you are not administered the antidote within thirty minutes."

Mantz's eyes grew wide with terror, that this time was not feigned.

"Oh, that's not even the best part, asshole," Noah spat out.

"Since you like distorted fear so much this little serum has the added benefits of hallucinations. They should be starting any minute now. Unless you tell us what we want, in which case we'll give you the antidote," Anna finished.

"I'll tell you nothing. You're still just going to kill me."

"Suit yourself," Brenda shrugged, munching happily on more chocolate; she had found the stash of cocoa kama sutra figures. Aidan couldn't stop darting looks at her while he kept the gun trained on the prisoner.

"You're willing to go to the grave with your secret?" Sean laughed. "I highly doubt that."

Noah leaned his exhausted body back against the wall. "Good," he said softly. He looked at the prisoner, his eyes dead, his breath coming quicker and the words now spilling out in anger. "I say we let him suffer and die. He killed my boy, Anna!" Noah's voice cracked as he said her name. "He doesn't deserve our mercy!"

A bead of sweat trickled down Mantz's jawline and fell to the floor. He could hear it splat on the ground loudly. He looked around the room anxiously. Ambient noises were deafening, but he could barely hear what his captors were saying. What was happening to him?

As if in slow motion, he made out a shadow entering the room and approaching him. His eyes tried to focus on the shape, but it was made difficult by the beads of sweat that now seemed to be pouring off of him and into his eyes.

Noah's face sprung in front of him, inches away. His voice was soft and muffled. "You deserve to die! You killed my son!"

Aidan pulled Noah off, the handsome doctor fighting him all the way, trying to get a punch in on Mantz.

The shadow was back and towering over him. He squinted his eyes and looked into the face of Patrick Drake.

"It's you," Mantz gasped. "How-"

"You killed me. I'm here to kill you." Patrick grinned, his dimple peeking out. "Fair's fair."

"You're not real." Mantz's voice was a disbelieving whisper.

"No, but I'm real enough to you. And let me tell you, I'm one pissed off ghost. Do you know how good my life was?" Patrick walked around the large mixer, disappearing from Mantz's view.

Relieved, Mantz shouted out to his captors. "It's not working."

Patrick popped out from behind the mixer base, causing Mantz to scream. "Not working, huh? Then why can you see me?"

"Go away." He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to block it all out. His head swum and he had to open his eyes to try to fight off the feeling of vertigo.

"Not until you tell them where Dr. Scorpio is."

Mantz let out a whimper. Patrick disappeared from his view again. He could hear the air swirl around him. Shadows. Unintelligible whispers assaulted him from all sides. Mantz's eyes flickered back and forth in double time, unable to focus on anything.

Patrick's voice came through clearly from behind him, soft and ethereal. "Where, Mantz? Don't make me angry." A beat. "Mantz!" Patrick's voice echoed in his head.

"Stop! I'll tell you what you want," Mantz cried.

Patrick leaned in, his face inches from Mantz. "Where. Is. She."

"Centraal Station," Mantz whispered. "There is a lab underneath the train station. You can enter through a panel in the lost baggage claim room." He looked up at Alex. "Please, give me the antidote. Make him go away."

"So, it looks like we're headed to Centraal Station," Patrick said.

"Looks like it, Sport." Noah clapped a hand on Patrick's shoulder.

"You can see him?" Mantz asked in wonder.

"Yeah. That hallucination stuff? We lied." Brenda hopped off the counter and wiped the chocolate off her hands. "Can I carry a gun this time?"

"Dad, you were fantastic. If that rock star thing doesn't work out you should try acting."

"I think the groupies are better in music. How are you feeling?"

"A bit singed, but okay. I had less time than I thought to get out of there."

An inhuman growl rose from deep within Mantz and he jerked his body repeatedly, trying to free his hands from their binds. He only managed to force the wire to dig further into the meat of his wrists.

"Mate, you do remember we've tied you up with piano wire. All you're doing is cutting your wrists."

Mantz followed Aidan's eyes to his wrists, bloody and raw, and stopped struggling. He hadn't noticed the pain. The DVX operative's breathing quickened and he looked around the room, settling on Patrick. "How did you escape?"

Sean leered at him. "Like I said earlier, did you really think we were that stupid?"

"Agent Mantz, you must know that we are in the espionage business," Anna stated matter-of-factly. "That means we are in the business of watching. Observing. Waiting patiently for someone to make a mistake."

Brenda snorted. "Yeah, and we didn't have to wait too long for you to screw up. Loser."

"Did you really think we were going to leave you alone?" Sean asked. "Doesn't take a genius to figure out a doctor who plants a gun in a chocolate vat is probably not who he says he is."

"Add that to the intel my ex-husband had passed on to Sean before he disappeared, and it was really quite easy." Anna folded her arms across her chest and stared at Mantz, daring him to make a move so she'd have an excuse to hit him. "There was a slight language barrier between my ex and the Romanians, but he knew enough of the language to understand a long-haired German had been seen with a struggling American brunette. We knew you were setting us up."

"So, the train station," Noah said. "When do we leave? And what's the plan?"

"Well, the plan depends on the intel Dr. Mantz here gives us." Sean looked pointedly at the stringy-haired German.

Mantz laughed. "I'll tell you nothing."

"Yeah, we heard that already," Brenda laughed. "And you spilled like a wuss."

"There is no way I am helping you get to Dr. Scorpio. She is finishing important work. Work my agency will use to help further our agenda…"

Frustrated, Sean crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't have time for this. Alex? Bring over Dr. Hayward's truth serum."

Again, Alex appeared out of nowhere, holding an even larger syringe filled with a pink liquid.

"Agent Mantz, are you familiar with my ex-husband, Dr. David Hayward?" Anna smiled. "Ah. I see from the fear in your eyes you are familiar with his work. Sis?"

At Anna's urging, Alex walked up behind Mantz and again stabbed the needle into the side of his neck, this time slowly pushing the liquid into his veins. The prisoner's body writhed from the pressure of the liquid entering his system. Mantz looked up wearily, seeing his captors in a semi-circle around him, waiting for the serum to take effect.

Brenda leaned over to Patrick, chomping the tip off of another chocolate penis. She waved the squirting base in his face, Patrick unconsciously placing a hand in front of his groin. "We should really bring a bag of these for Robin," she whispered. "She would love them!"

* * *

They left under the cover of night. Patrick couldn't help but think what a cliché that was, but when he mentioned this to Sean, the old spy had fixed him with a glare.

"What do you suggest, Drake?" he snarled. "You want to go in tomorrow morning with a big sign saying 'Hey, look at us! We're going to break into your lab!'!"

Patrick still couldn't figure out why the guy didn't like him.

Not only was it night, they were each dressed head to toe in black (again, another cliché, but Patrick had decided to keep his mouth shut). Not for the first time, or even the fifty-first time, Patrick wondered just how he had ended up here - plunging through a manhole cover, walking through a sewer system searching for an entrance to a train tunnel. And that had only been the beginning of their journey.

They had shimmied 500 feet through the tunnel, making sure to hug the wall in case an oncoming train not listed on the schedule surprised them, until they were able to find the air duct that led them to the lost baggage claim room through whose ceiling they promptly dropped out of.

Anna scrambled over to the east wall and quickly located the fake panel Mantz had told them about. Pulling out what looked like a compact power screwdriver, she easily removed the panel and stepped aside.

"Is everyone ready?"

Under the influence of Hayward's truth serum, Mantz had given them the location of several security check-points, which Sean had insisted he handle. Anna, Noah, Brenda, Aidan and Patrick each had their own assignments. They'd be splitting up here. Hopefully, they would meet up again in another couple of hours. _If_ all went according to plan.

Patrick looked over at his father. Noah gave him a small smile and nodded his head. Patrick swallowed hard and nodded back. This was it.

TBC


	20. Chapter 20

_Thanks for all the wonderful feedback. We appreciate it._

**Twenty**

* * *

_Fear has become a constant companion over the past couple of weeks. I wouldn't say it's distorted fear, though. I think my level of fear is quite in line with what's going on. Fear of what's happening to Robin and fear of imagining a life without her. I never feared for my own life until I walked into that church and had mere seconds to make my escape. One flub and I was a goner. I've never really faced my own mortality before, I wasn't even worried when I donated part of my liver to my father, and even though I made it out okay the sensation of almost dying still crawls over my skin. I knew she was one of the bravest people I know, but I've never really understood what it must be like Robin for every day with HIV under her skin. That thought is even scarier than a bomb explosion singing my hair. I need to find her, hold and make her and myself feel safe. I need to let her know how much I admire her. And I need for her to never be afraid again._

* * *

_Patrick is dead. Patrick is dead._

Hope is a word she can barely remember anymore, never mind feel.

The ache in her chest and stomach is a constant now.

They gave her another viewing of her father this morning. Battered, bloodied, exhausted and chained like an animal to a wall behind glass. It was, they said, to make sure she knew to stay focused on her work. Her hands moved automatically, filling vials, taking measurements, making calculations, but all she could think is "Patrick is dead. Patrick is dead."

She had to keep that thought in her head because she doesn't really believe he's gone. It doesn't feel like he's gone. She knows it's called denial. They told her all about it, the therapists and helpful adults, after her parents died. Except they weren't helpful or, ultimately, right. This time, though, she saw the explosion with her own eyes. She saw the news coverage. Saw bodies being carried out of the decimated building. Saw Patrick's handsome face flashed on the television screen and in the newspaper among the other victims who had been innocently attending services at what once was a historical monument.

She also has to keep thinking it because the other thought simmering on the edge of her consciousness is that she is the one who killed him.

She had tunneled through the online pharmacology database and sent out messages. Two to Patrick. One to her Uncle Mac. Some to her father and mother. Even one to Brenda. She had to let them know she was alive. She didn't know which if any of the messages got through, but each one was a clue. A little of what she knew as to where she was, though she was not conscious for most of the trip here and hadn't seen the light of day except for what they deigned to show her. Now, they took away all of her access even though she wouldn't dare try again.

She killed Patrick. She doesn't know how to live with that. But she cannot die as that would only ensure the deaths of the others she loved. How can she value her comfort over the lives of others? She can't.

A small sound came from her throat. She sounds like the caged animal she knows she has become. That she will always be. She knows now for certain that she can never leave. Nor can she let herself die. This is her own personal hell.

She hears the door open behind. The loud screech of the metal rips at her nerves. She refuses to turn around. She is dropping a solution into the drug. Today, they informed her when they woke her up, she would begin human trials. She would see the magnificence she was creating. Their words, not hers.

"Robin."

She closes her eyes and the dropper she's using falls to the table. It's his voice. She could swear it's his voice.

Patrick is dead. Patrick is dead.

It is a trick. A tape.

Yet, she can feel his presence. Maybe, a thought flashes into her mind, she is going insane? Could she be so lucky?

She's so pale, he thinks as he approaches her.

"Robin," he says again, softly. Uncertain of her physical and mental state as she has not yet turned around he hesitantly touches her shoulder. She flinches and turns her head. She opens her eyes wider trying to take in the sight of him. They are darker than he's ever seen them. Flinty. Pained.

Her mouth opens into a tiny "O". No sound escapes. Sweat breaks out over her body.

"Robin," he says again, more urgently this time.

"A dream." Her voice is a disappointed sigh. "Another dream." She closes her eyes.

"Robin." Patrick grasps both of her shoulders and turns her to face him. "This is no dream and we have to get going." Now that his hands are on her, now that he is holding her he cannot let go. He intended to shake her, instead he pulls her to him, knowing he's wasting precious time and unable to help himself. "Oh, Robin. I've missed you. God, I've missed you." His arms wrap around her and hold her trembling form against him.

"You're real? Patrick?" Her voice breaks on his name. She starts to tremble in his arms.

He pulls back and puts his hands on her face and looks down at her, heedless of the tears streaming down his face. "I should be asking you that." He looks around. "We need to go."

"Go?" Robin gasps and grab onto the front of Patrick's black t-shirt. "We need to go! My father. We have to get my father!"

"Your father?" Patrick paused, surprised at this curve ball and suddenly panicked about what to do next.

"He's here! They have him. They hurt him! We have to go get him!" Robin turned back to the table and pressed a button on the computer releasing a compact disk.

"Wait." Patrick put a quelling hand on Robin's shoulder and he put his other hand to press the ear bud. "Donely. We have Robin. She says that her father is here somewhere. Injured." Patrick nodded and then his eyes focused on Robin again. "Sean is going to get your father. We still need to get out of here."

"No! I need to…"

"Robin," Patrick grasped both her shoulders. "I need to get you out of here. Sean and your mother and your cousin and my father will take care of Robert. We can't deviate from the plan." He leaned in closer and whispered. "I'm not good enough at this yet to improvise."

Robin's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. "Oh my god." She bit her lip at the shaft of amusement he managed to elicit inside her. "Well, I am. We are at least going to destroy this place." She stuck the disk in her pocket and then turned around and swept her arm across the table. Then she moved on to the next table. And the next. Smashing everything she can get her hands on including all of the computers. Patrick moved in her shadow, pouring the caustic chemicals she handed him onto the debris. Finally, Patrick checked his watch. "We need to go."

"My meds." Robin looked around wildly. She knew she wasn't thinking straight. She's still wasn't completely sure she's not dreaming.

"I brought them. Come on." He pulled her out of the lab, his other hand pulling the gun out of the waistband of his pants. Patrick walked in front of her, silently stopping at the doorway to make sure the coast was clear. She heard him sigh and then he waved her on past him. She walked around him and then stopped, her eyes widening and her face breaking into a smile. In front of her was quite a sight. There were at least four guards down one of which were decorated with one Brenda Barrett, her designer boot dug into his ribs.

Robin gasped. "Brenda!" She rushed forward and was met with a hug from her friend. "You're all right. They showed me photos!"

"There's a lot of that going around. We have to go." Patrick kept glancing from side to side down the hallway, his gun drawn.

"Patrick's right, we have to go." Brenda pulled back and gave Patrick a nod and then she smirked at Robin's shock at her acquiescence.

Robin looks around again and a pain of a different sort grips her chest; pain at the knowledge that Patrick should have to know this kind of violence because of her. Even as she laments the loss of Patrick's innocence she is reaching down and taking the guard's weapon and checking the clip.

"Ready. How do we get out of here?"

* * *

"You and I will go get Robert. From the sound of it he'll need medical care," Sean informed Noah, not missing a beat despite the need for a change of plans or the news that his old friend was alive.

They had been on their way to the second security check point. Now, they were going to have to divert. "Anna." Sean pulled Noah into a doorway and pressed his ear bud. "We got the package. There's another one that needs medical. Switch teams," Sean said, directing Anna and Aidan to take over the security detail while he and Noah went to get Robert and the hard drives Anna and Aidan were tasked with getting.

"Someone's coming," Noah whispered, raising his gun in rock steady surgeon's hands.

"Take them out," Sean directed as he ripped the key pad off the door they were in front of and shorted it open. Inside the room there were two people working that he dispatched without hesitation. Behind him came the sound of shots and then Noah barreled in behind him, his lean face a mixture of excitement and horror. Noah looked at the bodies and his doctor's fingers itched to save them. The father in him itched to make sure they were dead for hurting their children. The door snapped closed behind him.

"What are we doing?" Noah asked quietly.

"We need to find out where Robert is." He pulled out another communicator, one with a longer range and a scrambled frequency. He attached it to his ear bud. "Alex." He paused. "Robert's here. Ask our guest where." He waited.

"I think I found something," Noah called out from where he was standing in front of a computer screen and pointing.

Surprise obvious on his face, Sean walked over to where the elder doctor was pointing.

"How did you get this?" Sean asked.

Noah shrugged. "Didn't need a password." He motioned to the dead guys. "I just typed in Robert Scorpio."

"Alex, see if he reacts to Sector 4." Sean put his fingers back up to his ear. After a moment he nodded at Noah and then studied the screen to figure out the easiest route to the target area. "They know we're here." Sean began typing. "But they don't know where or how many. Our work on the alarms is holding." He continued typing. "Let's go."

* * *

It took ten minutes to work their way to the area where they were holding Robert. As expected, the room was heavily guarded in anticipation of the invaders coming for their comrade.

"We might need to wait for back up," Sean said, assessing the number and depth of hostiles they faced.

"Robert may not have the time. We need to see what condition he's in," Noah protested, intent on going forward.

Sean looked around. "Wait here." Sean got down on his haunches and held his gun in the air. "I'm going to blast my way in. Count off to five and then follow." He turned his head to Noah. "We might not make it."

Noah nodded and checked the clip on his gun like Anna had showed him.

Sean took off with his arms straight out shooting with two guns in an arc in front of him sending the waiting guards and the ones that came out to fill their places down onto the ground. He leapt over the bodies piling up in front of him.

Noah pressed his back to the wall, listening. Gun fire. Groans of pain. Bodies dropping. He counted off to five and then went barreling in Sean's wake. It would be too easy he realized in the heat of battle to shoot his partner in the back. "Shit," Noah grunted as he saw someone get past Sean and come at him. He wildly glanced between Sean and the oncoming and then pulled off a couple of shots. He cursed as the man went down.

He cleared the doorway of the place where they believed Robert was being held. Sean jammed the door shut behind him. "This is crazy shit!" Noah gasped and wiped at the sweat that was pouring down his face. He looked over at Sean who was favoring one side. "Were you hit?" He rushed over and put the gun down on the table.

Sean grabbed the gun, put on the safety and shoved it at the doctor. "Don't lose track of this."

"You're shot." Noah ignored the proffered gun and pulled Sean's shirt away from a bloodied wound.

"We don't have time for that. We need to find Robert and get to the rest of the work."

Noah ignored him again and looked around. "We're in a medical center. Shit." That meant Robert was probably seriously hurt. Noah began searching through the medical supplies and grabbed what he could carry.

Taking advantage of his distraction, Sean walked to another door and opened it. "He's in here." Sean rushed through the door, both guns still in his hands. "Robert, man." Sean found his old friend sitting on a bed a gun of his own pointed towards him, obviously taken from the doctor that was on the ground next to the bed.

"Did you get Robin?"

"She's on her way out. You look like death old friend," Sean said, cocky as ever.

"You don't look much better." Robert motioned towards Sean's wound. The movement was obviously painful for him. Suddenly a noise caught his attention and he straightened up and pointed the gun towards the doorway behind Sean.

"Whoa!" Noah stopped short inside the doorway. "It's just the doctor."

Robert's beaten face broke into a grin. "You brought him? How desperate were you?"

"That's something you should ask your ex-wife."

"What?" Robert blinked as if he was hallucinating.

"Both of you sit down. You there." Gone was all trace of fear and panic, Noah was now all arrogant surgeon as he directed Sean onto the bed next to Robert's. "I'm bandaging that up before you go anywhere." He got to work. "No way is Robert going on your little recon mission," Noah informed Sean.

"The hell I'm not!" Robert protested, trying to stand up.

"He can't walk."

"He's right. You'll just slow us down. I'm meeting up with Anna and Aidan and we're going to get the hard drives. Then we'll come back to get you out. You need more arming for the wait." Sean got up and went into the other room to look for weapons.

* * *

"Can you climb?" Patrick asked, his voice croaking as he tried not to show shaken he was at seeing Robin shoot people with such unerring aim and without hesitation as he had just moments ago.

"They didn't hurt me." Robin hopped onto Patrick's hands and into the air duct where they were going to crawl until they got to the vent that would let them out into the train tunnel. Robin crawled in a way and waited for Brenda and Patrick to follow. At Patrick's "go" she began to crawl. It was hot, but it felt amazing to Robin because it was the path to freedom.

Sweat was pouring down her face and into her eyes, but she had to ignore it. She was more worried about sensors or booby traps along the way.

"There," Brenda said quietly from behind her.

Robin stopped and looked down through the grate in front of her.

"It's not screwed in," Brenda said.

Robin took her gun out of her waistband and laid it down next to the vent and then began to pull it out. She slid it in front of her and picked up the gun and slowly peeked out. "Clear." She grasped the edges of the hole and flipped down to the ground. She looked around. They were in a stone and cement room. It was damp and filthy. She knew from Patrick that it was on the backside of a train tunnel and from there they would have to stay close to the wall. She worried about her father's ability to get out in the condition he was in, but forced herself to put that away. Sean, Aidan and Anna would make sure he got out. She helped Brenda down and Patrick followed.

She grabbed onto his hand just to touch him.

"All right lovebirds. Let's get through this grossness without seeing a rodent or I might scream this damn train station down." Brenda pushed the metal grate door open that led to the tunnel.

Twenty harrowing minutes later they were in the train station. Around them workers and tourists were rushing around to their trains. Train announcements echoed through the cavernous maze of a building, sounding in Dutch but still sounding as unintelligible as train stations everywhere. The big board of train departures and arrivals was illegible to Robin.

"Where are we going?" she asked as she and Patrick walked through the station as if they were lovers. Brenda was walking just ahead of them as if she was separate from them.

"Out of the station down to the Grasshopper."

"The bar?" Robin asked in surprise. The Grasshopper was a three-floor bar and restaurant that sat at the edge of a canal and the edge of the Red Light District. It was the favorite of tourists and Brenda and Robin had spent a few nights there downing Red Bull and Vodkas or whatever was popular and dancing with bachelor parties over from England and other assorted strangers. She even had the t-shirt.

"Remind me to ask about that tone in your voice later," Patrick said, his eyes darting around for anything that looked hostile.

The cool night air felt like freedom. The threesome changed formation and headed towards the Red Light District, blending in with the crowd intent on the same destination.

"Blue van," Patrick's gruff voice sent shivers through Robin's body. He opened the door and they climbed in and locked it.

"Now what?" Robin asked.

"We contact your Aunt Alex and we wait," Brenda said. "I'll do that." She looked between the two lovers and cleared her throat and crawled over to the radio to send the message. She kept her back to them to give them what little privacy she could.

"I can't believe you're here." Robin cupped Patrick's face, studying it in the dim glow of the light in the blacked out van. "You came for me." Her voice was filled with awe.

Patrick cupped her shoulders. "I love you, Robin." She gasped and he buried his face in her hair and wrapped himself around her. "I love you."

TBC


	21. Chapter 21

**Twenty-One**

Between the ticking of the clock, which in the silent room was deafening, and Robert's glare, Noah was becoming increasingly nervous. He tried to focus on stitching up the gash above Robert's left eye.

"Tell me again why you're here, Drake," Robert drawled. "You are still a neurosurgeon? It's not your cover as a spy, right? Because I don't remember ever seeing you at our union meetings."

Noah laughed softly. "No, not a spy."

"Huh." Robert set his jaw. "So why are you here?"

Noah took a moment to look at his work, then continued with the stitches. "Patrick has been frantic with worry for Robin. Helping Anna and Aidan in the investigation has been a godsend for him. I'm here to support my son."

"Great, so Drake, Jr. is wandering around here somewhere, too?"

"He was in charge of getting Robin out safely."

"What!" Robert pulled his head back, causing Noah to nearly put a stitch in his eye.

"You need to stay still, Robert."

"Has Anna completely lost her mind? She left our little girl's well being to a womanizing, self-centered doctor with no training or experience in espionage?"

"Hey!" Noah finished the stitching and yanked on the end to make a knot.

"Ow! Dammit, Drake, what are you doing?"

"My son is partly responsible for getting us this far. And Anna's obviously doing something right since Patrick and Brenda have already escorted Robin out of here."

Robert grunted. "She's losing it. Allowing civilians on a mission-"

"Listen." Noah pointed a finger at the aging spy. "Anna is amazing. She's held it together while her only daughter was missing and it looks like she's saved your ass too."

"My wife-"

"Ex-wife," Noah interrupted.

Robert stopped and stared at Noah. "Oh, bloody hell."

Noah's eyes darted around the room, at everything but Robert, as he walked across the room to the supply cabinet. He was not going to get involved in this conversation with Robert Scorpio. He kept his back to Robert, concentrating on pulling together more medicine and supplies for their escape.

"You and Anna?" Robert grabbed for his gun, pointed it in Noah's direction and fired off three rounds in quick succession.

* * *

Astor Kargle didn't notice the tiny red light trained on his heart until it was too late. Seconds before a bullet entered his chest he looked up to see the beautiful dark haired woman with her gun pointed at him. His last thought was how stunning she was and how it was a shame she would die here tonight.

"That was for my daughter," Anna whispered as she stepped over his body. Mantz had "volunteered" Kargle's location, telling Alex that he was the lead scientist in charge of this lab facility. It had been Anna's pleasure to finally meet him and take him out. She walked to the computer terminal Kargle had been working on and threw Aidan a flash drive. "The mainframe, Aidan. Can you download to the WSB terminal and make us a copy? Just in case we need it later." There was no way she was going to trust the WSB with all of this information without having a copy for herself.

"I'm on it."

Sean flew through the door, earning him two cocked guns trained on his chest.

"Jesus, Sean!" Aidan lowered his arm. "You nearly got yourself shot."

Sean, who had lifted his arms in the air as a reflex slowly lowered them. "You're supposed to be on security detail."

Aidan glanced up briefly from his work on the mainframe. "Done. We took out a half dozen or so, but everyone else in the building seems to have disappeared."

Anna pulled her gun down and placed it back in the waistband of her black Prada leather pants. "We heard Kargle hang up the phone right after we got here, and he looked to be in a hurry to pack up. I think he must have sounded the alarm to defect."

"Soviets always were pretty good at defecting," Sean said.

"How is Robert?" Anna asked as she continued to download information from Kargle's terminal.

"He's a little worse for wear, but he's going to be fine."

Anna tried to look nonchalant. "And Noah? Is he okay?"

Sean smirked. "Your doctor friend is fine. He's a pretty good shot."

Anna looked up in surprise.

Sean laughed. "He's got his hands full right now working to put Robert back together again. You know what a great patient Scorpio makes." Sean glanced around the room. "How are we doing in here?"

"Everything's under control mate." Aidan held up the memory stick. "Looks like we've finally caught a break."

* * *

Patrick cupped her shoulders. "I love you, Robin." She gasped and he buried his face in her hair and wrapped himself around her. "I love you."

"Oh my God!" Brenda screeched. "That is just the most romantic thing I've ever seen!"

Robin could feel Patrick start to laugh as she looked over his shoulder at her best friend. Brenda's eyes were shining and she had wrapped her arms around herself. She smiled at Robin and then clapped excitedly.

"Brenda…" Robin chastised her friend.

Patrick kissed Robin's head and lifted his eyes to look at Brenda. "Do you mind? I'm trying to have a moment."

"Oh, yeah, of course." Brenda turned around to face the front of the van. "Pretend like I'm not even here."

"Yeah, that'll be no problem." Patrick rolled his eyes and then looked down at Robin, stroking her cheek. "You okay? I still think you should let me do a quick physical."

"I'm fine, Patrick," Robin smiled. "Let's save that physical until we're somewhere alone." She looked down, uncomfortable. "You know, I'm not going to hold you to anything that you say here. I know it's an emotional time and-"

Music blared from the front seat. "Ooops. Sorry." Brenda lowered the volume and searched for an English speaking channel. She stopped suddenly and squealed.

_Jessie is a friend… _

"Oh I love this song!" Brenda turned around in her seat. "Hey Drake, has anyone ever told you your dad looks like Rick Springfield?"

"Brenda!" Robin gave her a look.

"Sorry, sorry." Brenda faced forward again. "Go on. Pretend like I'm not even here."

Robin smiled at Patrick shyly. "You know, this song always reminds me of-"

"The Kells?" Patrick finished. "Yeah, me too." He sighed. "I think that's the night I knew I was in love with you. Really pissed me off."

She looked up into his smiling face. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Those non-existent strings we both insisted that we wanted? I was completely tangled up in them."

"Good. Because I love you too."

"Yeah?" Patrick smiled down at her and leaned in for a kiss.

"Yup. Only I'm pretty sure I knew before then."

"This is not a contest, Scorpio. It doesn't matter who knew they were in love first." Patrick put his hand on her cheek and pulled her in for a slow kiss.

"Where can I find a woman like that?" Brenda belted out from the front seat.

Robin laughed into Patrick's kiss and they pulled apart, staring at the front seat, watching Brenda perform her greatest air guitar moves in the driver's side seat.

Robin shifted slightly and stared out the blackened window, her face becoming serious. "They're okay, right? You think they're okay?"

"Hey." Patrick gently placed his hand under her chin and turned her to face him. "Your mom and cousin are super spies. They're going to get your dad out of there. And my dad? Well, it's a little disconcerting how good he's been at this spy stuff. Remind me to tell you about his acting skills later."

"Acting skills?"

"Yeah. My dad, the Australian rock star, and your mom and aunt as his devoted groupies."

He laughed at Robin's quizzical look. "Trust me, we're going to need to open a nice bottle of wine before I tell you some of these stories."

"ROBIN!"

Patrick and Robin swiveled to stare at Brenda, shrieking from the front seat.

"Okay, I know I'm new to this spy stuff, but aren't we trying to be inconspicuous here?" Patrick glared in Brenda's direction.

"ROBIN! We've got trouble!"

"Do I have to remind you, Barrett that we are undercover?" Patrick leaned forward, whispering. "Screaming 'Robin' so that the entire block can hear you is hardly subtle."

Brenda grabbed his shirt and pulled him towards her, grabbing his face and turning it to the radio. "I think we've got more pressing concerns."

The radio crackled. "Again, authorities are reporting a bomb threat at Centraal Station. Chechen rebels have claimed to have planted a nuclear bomb on one of the platforms. Police have reportedly begun evacuations of the train station and a 10 block radius surrounding the area."

"Is that-"

"The train station we just ran out of?" Brenda snarked. "Yes, Einstein, it is."

Robin climbed over Patrick and into the front passenger side seat, twisting her head so she could see the commuters and tourists flee from the building. "Oh God."

* * *

The popping sound from the gun caused Noah to curl in on himself. In the silence following, he straightened up and looked back at Robert. He could actually see the smoke still billowing from the barrel of the gun. _"The bastard shot me,"_ Noah thought. He looked down and felt for the bullet holes. Finding none he looked at Robert, and then in the direction that Robert was staring.

"DVX," Robert said calmly as he nodded towards the dead body on the floor, inches from Noah. "Lucky for you my cat-like reflexes are still intact."

"I didn't even hear him coming."

"Yet another reason why my Anna-"

"Your ex-Anna," Noah said firmly.

Robert ignored his declaration. "-should never have allowed you to come on this assignment. You have no skills for this world."

"He's doing better than you did in the Siberian missile case in '82," Anna said as she strode in the room, Sean and Aidan following her.

"You would bring that up," Robert chided.

Anna walked over to Noah. "How is he? Can he make it out of here?"

"We're going to need to help him, but moving him isn't going to hurt him…unfortunately," he added under his breath. Noah looked at her, his eyes softening. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." She smiled. "Patrick and Robin…they're safe."

"I know." He returned her smile.

Sean cleared his throat. "We might want to think about getting out of here now. You remember? DVX trolling the perimeter. Looking for us. Likely wanting to kill us."

"Right." Anna straightened her shoulders. "Aidan, you and Dr. Drake get on either side of Robert and help him out. I'll take the forward position and Sean you take the rear."

Sean nodded. "Let's go." His ear piece beeped. "Hang on." He put out his hand, urging them to wait and pressed his hand to his ear bud. "Yeah, go on." Sean listened intently to the communicae on the other side of the earpiece, his head lowering. "Dammit. Okay, we're on it."

"What?" Anna tried to look in Sean's eyes. Finally he met hers.

"Slight problem."

"How slight?" Noah asked.

"Someone's called in a bomb threat to the train station. Said they were Chechen rebels, but I'll give you two guesses who it must be."

"You think there's really a bomb?"

"Well according to Patrick, Alex is reporting that the local news is showing a silver briefcase, sitting alone on platform 3."

"We've got to get out of here now," Robert said as he slowly tried to pull himself off the examining table.

"You're right, with observations like that I can see why you are more qualified for this job than I am," Noah shot back.

"Listen hotshot-"

"Lads, we can measure who's is bigger when we get home," Aidan yelled. "We need to focus right now."

Noah and Robert continued to glare at each other. "Rock star doctor needs a haircut," Robert muttered under his breath.

"What did you say?" Noah stepped forward menacingly.

"Enough!" Anna stepped between them. "Robert, just shut up."

"He started it!"

"Focus! We need to get out of here and disarm some sort of explosive so we don't blow up half of Amsterdam and ourselves." Anna's glare finally shut Robert up.

"I can diffuse the bomb," Aidan said. He cut off Anna before she could protest. "I'm the natural choice. I've got experience in bomb diffusion from my time with British Intelligence. I can handle it."

At the determined look in her nephew's eye, Anna nodded. "Let's go."

* * *

"Patrick, Sky News is reporting that a silver briefcase has been spotted on platform 3," Alex glanced at her captive. Mantz was watching the breaking news reports, smiling.

"You're too late," he laughed. "They've begun the defection procedure. It's only a matter of minutes before the nuke goes off. There'll be nothing left. No evidence. This will make Chernobyl look like a sewage spill."

Alex glared at Mantz. "Tell them to hurry, Patrick." She took the bud out of her ear and threw it on the table. This was Anna's world, not hers. She wanted to go back to her boring, safe life with her husband. She missed Dimitri terribly.

"I almost feel sorry for you," Mantz leered. "Did you really think there was no backup plan? This won't stop us. We'll just start over. We'll-" Mantz stopped suddenly, struggling to catch his breath. He started to spasm, his body jerking wildly in the chair he was chained to.

Alex rushed over. He was having a reaction to the medication. Seizures were a side effect, and they had pumped him so full of her compound she shouldn't be surprised that this was happening, but it was damn inconvenient. She really didn't care if he lived or died, but they needed him to stay alive right now to answer more questions. She approached him, reaching to hold back his head when Mantz leaned over, violently head-butting her. Alex sprawled on the floor, unconscious.

Laughing, Mantz hopped in his chair, tipping it over so he was prostrate next to her. He grabbed the key hanging around her neck with his teeth and skillfully pulled the string from around her neck. He had a job to finish.

* * *

Anna didn't know how they'd managed to get everyone out of the lab and back into the train station. Noah had practically carried Robert the entire way, which she was sure had thrilled Robert to no end, but as a testament to how bad off Robert was, he allowed it. Robert was now physically spent, and barely hanging onto consciousness. They needed to get him out of there fast. She looked over at Sean. His wound had reopened, and had bled through his shirt. He was favoring his right side and sweating profusely, his face pale.

"Noah, you need to take Robert and Sean to the drop-off," Anna said. "I'll go with Aidan and provide a look out."

"Anna, he can't manage both of them," Aidan looked at her and smiled. "You need to go with them. I'll be okay."

"Aidan-"

"We don't have time for this, Aunt. Go." Aidan turned and ran off to platform 3 before anyone could get a word in.

"Right," Anna said, giving Sean her shoulder to lean on. "Let's go."

* * *

"Why haven't we heard anything yet?" Robin was frantic. Damn this van. She need to pace.

Patrick reached for her hand. "Hey. They'll be here."

The side door of the van suddenly slid open.

"Daddy!" Robin helped her father into the van as Patrick removed his jacket and balled it up for the spy to lay his head on.

"Hi, Luv. Fancy seeing you here."

Robin laughed through her tears. "You're going to be okay." She gently pushed the hair off of his forehead. Looking up, she noticed the other old friend. "Uncle Sean?"

"Hi sweetheart." He pulled her into a hug. "You don't know how happy I am to see you."

Brenda watched from the front seat, noting Patrick enveloping Noah in a hug and Anna hanging onto her daughter for dear life. "Where's Aidan?"

Anna pulled away from her daughter and looked at Noah. "He's diffusing the bomb."

"Alone?" Brenda leaned over the front seat. "You left him alone?" Brenda yanked the driver's side door open and scrambled out, slamming it shut.

"Brenda!" Robin ran out of the van after her best friend.

"Dammit!" Patrick scrambled out of the van after Robin. Noah grabbed his arm. "Dad, I've got to get her. I'm not losing her now."

* * *

Aidan wiped the sweat from his brow. He hadn't lied to his aunt per se; he had worked on bomb diffusing details while in the British Intelligence Agency. He'd just never been the lead. Or actually diffused the bomb. But he'd seen plenty of procedures. And he'd watched an awful lot of James Bond movies.

He had the large steel case open, and was staring intently at the two large tubes filled with liquid. On the left was a giant vial filled with a fluorescent green liquid, and on the right a vial filled with an orange concoction. The green tube had a blue wire leading out of it, and the orange tube had a red wire. A larger empty tube lay beneath the others, a black casing hid the inner workings, making it appear that the tubes were floating in the case. There were 3 minutes left on the digital clock attached at the base of the empty tube. "Cut the blue or the red?" Wasn't this in a Lethal Weapon movie? Aidan found himself wondering what Mel Gibson would do.

"Aidan!"

Aidan shook his head. Surely he was hearing things. Surely that wasn't….He looked up and groaned. "Brenda? What the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm your look-out. I wasn't going to just leave you out here alone."

"There is no way you should be anywhere near this building," Aidan shouted. "I've got it under control."

"Oh, is that why I can hear you chanting, 'red or blue,' 'red or blue'?" Brenda slowly approached him, walking past a large pillar. "I'm not leaving you."

A hand reached out and grabbed her around her waist, pulling her tight. Mantz shook his greasy hair out of his eyes and put a gun to her temple. "Well, isn't that sweet."

"Mantz, let her go." Aidan slowly got to his feet, trying to ignore the beeping coming from the bomb at his feet as each second ticked by.

"Oh I don't think so." Mantz held Brenda tighter as she continued to struggle. "Give me the bomb."

Aidan sneered. "There is no way I'm giving this to you."

Mantz cocked the gun. "Fine. I'll kill her. Then I'll kill you. Then I'll take the bomb."

"No!" Aidan tried to come up with a plan. He kicked the case over halfway to Mantz.

Mantz bent down with Brenda and looked at the case with glee. "Oh what fun! Shall we cut the blue or the red Miss Brenda?" Brenda struggled to keep from shaking. "No preference? Okay, how about the red?" With a flourish, Mantz lowered the gun and grabbed a knife from his pocket, slicing the red wire. Slowly the empty tube began filling with the orange liquid. "Ooops. I don't think that was the right wire. How about the blue?" With another grand flourish he cut the blue wire, causing the green liquid to add to the orange. Brenda screamed in terror.

"That's not a bomb, is it?" Aidan said evenly.

"You're pretty smart. Unfortunately, not quick enough." Mantz cackled. "You're looking at distorted fear. Still untested on humans, granted, but the mice had quite the reaction to it. Your Dr. Scorpio is quite brilliant."

"You are a sick bastard," Brenda tried to turn in his arms, spitting in his face. Mantz just smiled.

"What are you going to do with it?" Aidan's mind reeled, trying desperately to come up with a plan. _'Just keep him talking,'_ he thought.

"Well if you had let the bomb squad come by and blow it up, we would have had a room full of test subjects, but this is actually so much better. All I need is a water supply." Mantz's eyes lit up. "And I believe we happen to be near a rather large waterway. Soon we'll have a whole city of "willing" test subjects, and if all goes well, future agents." He pushed Brenda into Aidan's arms violently. "Unfortunately, you'll have to be eliminated." He lifted his arm, took aim and readied his shot.

A loud growl came from Mantz's left side as Patrick flung his body onto the agent, knocking his gun free as the shot rang out. Aidan screamed and went down.

"Aidan!" Brenda fell next to him.

Robin ran out from behind the pillar and grabbed the gun, trying to get a clear shot at Mantz, but unable to find one with Patrick and the DVX spy rolling on the ground. Patrick felt around for something, anything, to use as a weapon. Feeling the handle of the suitcase, he grabbed it and dragged it across the concrete with all his might, at Mantz's head. The blow startled him for a second, but it was all Patrick needed to roll away from him, and that was all Robin needed to get her shot.

Mantz lay still, a bullet in his chest. Patrick slowly got up and stumbled to Robin, pulling her close. Robin shook in his arms, tears flowing. "Shhh. It's over. You're okay." Patrick tried to soothe her, kissing the top of her head. "We're all okay."

He glanced over at Aidan and Brenda, who had pulled her sweater off and made a tourniquet for Aidan's leg. It looked like Mantz's bullet had hit him in the thigh. Patrick grabbed Robin's hand and led her to the Brit. "You all right, Mate?"

Aidan grimaced. "Oh I'm great. Just a flesh wound."

Brenda held onto Aidan's hand and grabbed Robin's left hand. "Let's get the hell out of here." Together they helped Aidan up, Brenda on one side, Patrick on the other, Robin holding onto Patrick for dear life with her left hand, her right hand carrying the suitcase with her deadly research. They made quite a group. A ragtag team, bloodied, beaten and weary, walking thought the red light district to a beat up blue van in an alleyway.


	22. Chapter 22

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**Twenty-Two**

The porter closed the door behind him leaving Patrick and Robin standing silently just drinking the other in. Both fought a feeling of overwhelm now that they were truly safe and alone.

"Nice room."

Robin let out a bark of laughter and looked around at the lush suite room. "Yeah, it is." She turned her eyes back to Patrick. "I hadn't noticed."

"A lot nicer than the dilapidated mansion in the Maarkham Islands. And I bet the bathtub works." Patrick grinned and winked.

Robin's smile widened and tears of joy ran down her cheeks. "I forgot my guidebook and my machete," she whispered brokenly.

"You don't need them here," Patrick said softly and walked towards her until he could reach out his arm and touch her.

"In London, probably not." Robin wiped at her cheeks and looked up at him. "Are you just going to stand there?"

Patrick bit his lip and looked away, swallowing over the lump in his throat before looking back at her. "I'm afraid to touch you," he whispered.

"Why?" Robin asked hoarsely in surprise.

Patrick grinned ruefully and ruffled his hair nervously with his left hand. "I, uh, thought I saw you a couple of times before today. I'm afraid you're going to be a figment of my imagination again." He looked her up and down. She was wearing green scrubs from the hospital in Amsterdam they had gone to in order to have Robert, Robin, Sean, Aidan and Alex checked out before Sean insisted they leave the country immediately on the chartered plane Alex's husband Dimitri had provided for the U.S.-bound contingent before taking his wife home to Hungary. "Although in my, er, delusions you were wearing that sexy red dress."

"That figures." Robin laughed. "Which red dress?" Robin stepped towards him, stopping when they were only inches apart.

"The one you wore when you came back from your little adventure in the Maarkham Islands. You were gorgeous in that dress." His voice was husky. He bit his lips as she slid her palms up his chest and looked up at him in that way she did before they kissed.

"i_Little_/i adventure?" She grinned through her tears.

"Very little. You want to know about adventure let me tell you about my adventures to Canada, Paris, Prague…"

She put her fingers over his lips as he rattled off the places he'd been in search of her. "You can tell me later. That shower I had at the hospital wasn't quiet refreshing enough. Didn't you mention something about a working bathtub?" She narrowed her eyes.

He licked his lips and brought his face closer to hers. "I think I might have mentioned that. I might even have some of that flowery stuff you like me to rub all over your body."

Robin pulled her head back and looked at him in surprise. Then she leaned back in and sniffed. Her jaw dropped open and tears once again filled her eyes. "Dr. Drake, you smell might purty!" She jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.

Patrick grunted as he caught her and then supported her with his hands on her bottom. "I do not! I smell manly! I smell like a man who just rescued his woman!" he growled playfully.

Robin pressed kisses to his face. "You. Smell. Pretty!" she teased, laughing and crying at the same time. She stopped and cupped his hands in her face. "You're real. I'm real," she whispered in awe and tightened her legs around his waist, causing him to stagger back. "I love you." She pressed her lips to his initiating a long, deep, rabid kiss.

* * *

"You should have gone to the hospital," Anna said.

"Please. I'm fine."

"You're no spring chicken," Anna comment laconically as Robert lowered himself gently onto the couch in front of the windows of his Plaza suite.

"You say the sweetest things, luv."

Anna sighed and sat down next to her ex-husband.

"I'm sorry."

"What?" Anna screwed her face up and leaned in closer.

Robert rolled his eyes at her feigned sudden inability to hear him. "I didn't want to worry you. I should have told you the WSB had their eyes on our daughter," he said formally.

"There was the added complication of you being dead." Anna tightened her lips, then she sighed. "I should have known." She shook her head ruefully. "We bore our daughter into this life."

"We've done the best we could."

"You keep saying that, but I'm not so sure that's really true, Robert. We did the best for ourselves, but for Robin?" She broke off doubtfully.

"There's nothing we can do to change the past. Can we just revel in the fact that we have her back safe and sound now?" Robert asked quietly.

Anna nodded and then stopped to think, before she could speak, Robert jumped in.

"What's going on with you and the elder pretty boy doctor, Anna? You're taste has slightly improved given that he's not a criminal, but really, Anna. A doctor?"

"I think I'm immune to the opinion of the guy who was fighting with Luke Spencer over the slut ex-wife who almost killed out daughter. Not to mention the fact that it's not your business."

"And how do you think Robin will feel about you possibly making her boyfriend her stepbrother?" Robert snorted. "You're not thinking of marrying him are you?"

"I just met the man. Don't go trying to stir up trouble," Anna said lightly and stood up. "Do you need anything? Water? Painkillers?"

"Your doctor boyfriend made sure I had everything." Robert bat his eyelashes and smirked at his ex-wife.

"I swear if you plant those crazy ideas in your daughter's head I'll make what the DVX did to you look like a picnic."

"Not feeling the love, Devane. But don't worry, I'll keep your secret and let you face your daughter's wrath all on your own."

"Good night, Robert." Anna let herself out of the suite and walked to the other end of the hall. She stopped in front of a red door similar and knocked.

* * *

Laura took in the handsome couple seated at her table in the bar. They were her lone customers, and they were simply sitting at the tiny round table in the corner and staring at each other, smiling. It was a slow night in the Plaza Hotel's bar, and the manager had sent the other cocktail waitress home, but Laura had agreed to stick it out. Kenny was bartending tonight and besides being devastatingly handsome, he always made the evening fun. Tonight, for example, they were playing "Will They or Won't They." They had placed a small wager on whether or not the dark haired couple would leave together. Laura's money was on yes. She'd sensed an intimacy between the two, and the sparks were definitely flying. She smoothed her short black skirt, then picked up the tray of drinks and headed over to them.

"OK loves, I've got one bourbon for you," she placed the drink in front of the man, smiling, and then placed a large martini glass in front of the woman. "And one martini, extra dry with four olives, a twist of lemon and a side dish of cherries. Let me know if I can get you anything else."

The couple nodded at her and watched her walk away.

"So." Brenda looked around her, mindlessly playing with her napkin and then placing both hands on the table in front of her, focusing on Aidan. "She looks good, right? You think Robin's okay?"

"I think she's doing amazingly well. It's to be expected of course, she's a Devane." Aidan looked down at his hands. "And you? Are you okay?"

Brenda laughed. "Me? Of course. I was held against my will in a castle, not some devious underground lab." She took a sip of her martini and tilted her head. "And I was rescued by a very dashing secret agent."

"Former agent," Aidan said. "You were very brave, Brenda. You would have made quite a spy."

"Yeah, well, I do look really good in black."

They were silent again until Brenda cleared her throat. " Pine Valley, huh?"

Aidan shifted in his seat and fingered the rim of his glass. "Yep," he whispered, glancing sideways at Brenda. " Rome?"

"Yeah," Brenda sighed and took a swig of her martini. "Great." She popped a cherry into her mouth. "You're handsome, intelligent and you've probably never been involved in the mob."

"No, no mob dealings."

"I wish…"

Aidan started to reach for her hand and then stopped. "Yeah, me too."

Brenda looked at his hand, halfway across the table, and swallowed hard. "Well, I should get going," she said with forced cheerfulness. "I've got to get back to my boutique. Marietta's probably having a cow."

Aidan nodded, unable to look her in the eye. "She did seem a bit frazzled when Patrick and I spoke with her at Paris Fashion Week."

Brenda looked at him silently for a moment, and then got up from the table.

"Goodbye, Aidan Devane."

"Goodbye, Brenda Barrett."

Finally, Aidan raised his head and the two held each other's eyes for a moment. Then Brenda turned on her heel and walked out of the bar and Aidan's life.

"Buggar," Laura said under her breath. "I can't believe she left here without him."

Kenny laughed. "Never go against a bartender when it comes to relationships sweetheart."

* * *

It seemed like ages ago, Anna thought as she looked at Dr. Noah Drake pouring her a glass of wine and himself a glass of club soda from the mini bar. Like that first morning he was wearing scrub pants and a wife beater t-shirt. She had thought him attractive that morning, but all he had really been in her mind was a tool to help her find her daughter. Tonight, this morning, he was so much more than that.

He turned then, his knowing eyes piercing into her own. He walked over to where she sat curled up on the couch and handed her the pale liquor. He sat down next to her. Close enough for her to smell the soap he had used in the shower about fifteen minutes ago she judged from the moistness that clung to his hair.

"Does it bother you to watch someone else drink?" she asked quietly.

"I enjoy watching you do anything." He gave her a charming smile.

Anna blushed and took a sip of her drink and tried to remember the last time she blushed. Who the last person was that managed to elicit such vulnerability from her.

"We should toast to a successful mission," Noah said and held his glass out. "To Robin."

"To Robin." Anna clinked her class with his. Once again their eyes held. "And to you, Noah. Your assistance was invaluable. To the mission. And to me."

Noah nodded in acceptance of the acknowledgement and then took a sip of his club soda.

"So what now? Do you come back to Port Charles or stay here in London?" he asked after many minutes of silence ticked by.

Anna let a Cheshire grin transform her face as she heard the subtext in the question that Noah didn't even bother to hide. "I came to Port Charles to see my daughter and check out your son. I've done the latter, but the former still needs some work." Anna sighed and put her glass down on the coffee table. "Truth is that I've missed a lot of Robin's life. The last year or so through my own choice. I'm going to take a leave of absence or resign and make up for lost time with my daughter."

Noah smiled widely and leaned forward. "If you need a place to stay in Port Charles I still have that spare bedroom. And one or two others."

Anna blushed again and laughed at herself. "Rather presumptuous don't you think, Dr. Drake?" Despite her words she let Noah entwine his fingers with hers and rest them on the couch between them.

"Definitely presumptuous, but an offer nonetheless."

"Noah."

"Uh oh, that tone is not a yes."

Anna looked down at their hands. "I haven't felt like this in a long time, Noah." She looked up at him, her face serious. "I'm willing to explore it, but I have one request."

"Anything." His voice was husky.

"Let's not tell our children until, if, there is something to tell them. Let's give this some time first."

Noah toyed gently with her slender fingers. "They probably will figure it out before we decide there is something to tell them and I'm pretty certain Patrick already senses our chemistry. It is pretty undeniable. What are you afraid of? They'll disapprove?"

"I'm not worried about anyone else but us and I'd like to keep it that way until I know this is real." Her voice was filled with emotion, with wonder, as well as a touch of insecurity. She shook her head ruefully. "The way you make me feel, Noah Drake. I feel sixteen again."

"Good, then we're even." He laughed and moved closer and put his arm around her shoulder. "How about a kiss to seal the deal?"

She answered him with a laugh and a kiss.

* * *

Patrick traced the tips of his fingers over Robin's shoulder and down her bare arm. She shivered, her nipple puckered visibly under the sheet that was the only covering over her body. It was the dead of night and they lie on the bed facing each other. Hours of passion had given way once again to quiet awe.

"You're so pale. You need to sleep," he said huskily.

"I'm pale because I haven't seen the sun in weeks. I don't need to sleep."

"Did you not get outside at all?" he asked gently. They had yet to speak about her ordeal and he was treading gently, letting her lead where she felt comfortable going.

"No." She looked down and then back up at him. "I had to go with them, stay with them. They threatened to kill you all. You. My mother. My father. Noah. Brenda. Uncle Mac. Anyone and everyone I love." A tear ran down her cheek. He caught it with his thumb. "I would have stayed there for the rest of my life if it meant all of you were safe." She closed her eyes for a moment as the images of the church exploding flashed through her mind.

He stroked her cheek and pushed her hair behind her ear. "But I wasn't all right. I can't be all right if you're not with me." He swallowed and licked his bottom lip. "I love you, Robin." His voice broke on the still new words.

"I love you, Patrick." She scooted into his arms and they held each other, her head resting on his chest.

"Do you want to stay in Europe for a while and spend some time being tourists?" Patrick asked, stroking her hair.

"No. I just want to go home. I want us to go home."

"Speaking of home." Patrick cleared his throat. "Remember that you gave me a key before…before you were gone? Well, you might notice that I made myself at home."

"How at home?" Robin propped her chin up and looked up at him curiously, a slight smile on her lips.

"I may have kinda moved in." He cleared his throat.

Robin bit back a laugh at the unexpected news. "Are you planning to stay?" She cleared her throat as she checked in with what she was feeling. Nothing but happiness.

"Are you kicking me out?" he countered.

"Nah. I think I'll keep you." She paused for a moment. "It's a big step, though. For anyone."

"And I freaked out over the key. I know." Patrick closed his eyes and nodded. "There's something else I need to confess." He opened his eyes. "I read your journal."

"You read my journal?" She parroted in shock and sat up. Her cheeks flushed and she bit her bottom lip. "Why?"

"At first it was for clues to where you'd disappeared to, but then I read it to feel closer to you. Because I missed you. It was quite a revelation to see me and how I treated you through your eyes. No," he said when she tried to interrupt. "I was a coward, Robin. All the way through. No strings. Freaking out after I felt too much at Kell's and couldn't fight it back anymore. Even when I was trying to woo you back I wasn't completely honest with either of us. Then I freaked out about the key." Patrick blew out a breath and shook his head.

"Then you were gone and I came face to face with the fact that the thing I should actually be scared of is not having you in my life. Of not being able to tell you and show you how much I love you. Of not having the gift of your love. All the times I called you a coward, I was really talking about me."

Robin stared into Patrick's eyes, a small smile tilting her lips. "I knew that." She bit her lip.

Patrick opened his mouth in shock. "I'm pouring my heart out to you and you tell me you knew that!" he gasped and laughed at her audacity.

"Patrick, I knew all of that and I still couldn't resist you like you always said. Now look at us. You could have died coming after me. Even if you didn't say the words I knew you loved me the moment I saw you."

Patrick flushed and swallowed. "That wasn't love, that was about looking good. And I'm too pretty to die a hero." He pulled her back into his embrace and kissed the top of her head.

Robin giggled into his neck. "Phew. For a minute I thought I was coming back to Stepford Boyfriend."

Patrick wrapped his arm around Robin's waist and spun them around so that she was lying beneath him. "I will never be a Stepford Boyfriend and you'd better never be Stepford Girlfriend. Unless that's what we decide to dress up as on Halloween."

Robin shivered and frowned.

"Fine, we'll pick other costumes." Patrick laughed and kissed her on the nose.

"I think I've had enough of things not appearing to be something other than what they are for a while. Let's just be ourselves."

"We do have another holiday to celebrate first, anyway."

"What's that?"

"Happy birthday, Robin." Patrick leaned down and captured her lips in a heated kiss.

END…for now

**A/N: There is a sequel to this story! We already have the premise and the title –Theory of Moral Relativity so keep an eye out for our next one. And THANKS! **


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